


Mine

by optimisticlesbian



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Angst and Porn, Breathplay, Canon Character of Color, Canon Lesbian Character, Choking, Closet Sex, Consensual Somnophilia, Denial of Feelings, Drug Abuse, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, F/F, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Falling In Love, Femslash, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Gentle Sex, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Handcuffs, Hate Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Character of Color, Lesbian Sex, Library Sex, Light Dom/sub, Love, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, Making Out, Mild Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, POV Female Character, POV Lesbian Character, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Prison, Prison Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scissoring, Sex, Sexual Content, Shower Sex, Spooning, Squirting, Strap-Ons, Tribadism, Tribbing, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Fingering, Walking In On Someone, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2020-07-29 02:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 39,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20074774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/optimisticlesbian/pseuds/optimisticlesbian
Summary: It's your first day at Litchfield Maximum, and you meet a certain alluring inmate. Things ensue.





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> There's an egregiously low amount of Daddy content out there, so I wrote this! Enjoy :) 
> 
> (Edit: This was originally a one-shot, but I love Daddy too much to not make it longer.)

You sat in your cell, still and stiff as a board as you stared straight ahead. The concrete of the wall your back was pressed against scratched you through the orange fabric of your uniform, making you suck in a sharp breath. 

It was your first day at Litchfield Max, and you could not remember a single time when you had been more terrified. Your heart dropped down to your stomach with every noise you heard, whether it be a barely noticeable whisper or a high pitched scream of agony. 

Fuck. How did you even let yourself get this far? The last few months seemed like a blur when you thought back to them. It seemed impossible to remember, as if everything had been wiped clean from your memory and wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, you were in this shithole wasting away by the second as the word slipped out of your fingertips. 

You bit your lip, taking slow, even breaths as you waited. For what, you had no idea, but you could only imagine that you'd be doing so for a while. The next decade, at the very least. 

You swallowed, the possibility of spending the rest of your life in prison coming to the forefront of your mind. You couldn't even fathom what it must be like, facing life in prison. Growing old and gray, becoming a shell of who you once were in a filthy cellblock. Trading knitting and baking cookies for holding a knife under your pillow and wondering if your next breath would be your last. 

Suddenly, you heard footsteps, loud and intimidating. They sent chills of terror, up and down your spine. You silently prayed that they weren't heading for your room-- no, your cell, as they neared closer and closer. 

You looked down, a painful lump in your throat. You felt the familiar rush of heat to your face, signaling that you were about to cry. A feeling that you knew all too well, especially since you had gotten here. 

Every nerve, every fiber in your body screamed at you to hold them back, to avoid looking weak. That was the number one rule of prison, or so you had read. You repeated the words over and over in your head, forcing them to become your mantra. 

Don't look weak, don't look weak, don't look weak, you thought to yourself. Hot tears forced themselves out of the corners of your eyes, rolling down your flushed cheeks and landing on the knees of your uniform. 

"I hate to see a pretty girl cry." 

The sudden voice made you jolt like someone had lit a fire underneath your ass. You hit the back of your head on the top bunk, causing you to let out a small yell as you clutched the area above your neck. You looked up at where the voice came from, expecting to see a guard with a tent in his pants, or maybe a 400-pound lifer looking for some new, fresh meat.

You saw neither.

Instead, you saw a beautiful girl with eyes the color of chocolate and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass.

The woman smirked, moistening her bottom lip as she looked you up and down. The platinum streaks in her hair contrasted with her dark, closely cropped curls. You were absolutely convinced that the cut couldn't possibly have suited anyone else. Her arms, slightly muscular underneath her shirt, made your center stir in a way it hadn't in a long, long time. 

She sat down next to you on your bunk, draping an arm around your shoulders. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through your spine, and although it wasn't familiar, it was welcomed. 

"What's wrong, beautiful?" the Latina gently whispered, her thumb reaching up to your face to gently brush away your tears. 

You remained silent, unsure of what to do. You were in prison, after all, it wasn't as if you could trust anyone. Least of all, ethereal strangers that made your heart flutter and made adrenaline pulsate through your veins. 

You bit your lip again, slowly letting out a tremulous breath. "Uh, first day here," you murmured, avoiding the intent gaze of the inmate seated next to you. 

The gorgeous girl sighed, giving you a knowing smirk. "I know the feeling, baby," she said, her tone smooth and syrupy sweet like a spoonful of molasses. 

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before the inmate spoke again.

"I'm Daddy," the alluring inmate said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. She tilted her head to the side, arching an eyebrow inquisitively. 

"You got a name for me, baby girl?" Daddy whispered, her warm, calloused hand traveling down to rest on your thigh. 

You remained silent for a moment before replying, letting out a tremulous breath. 

"Y/N, " you muttered, still apprehensive toward Daddy and her intentions with you. 

"Ah. A pretty name for a pretty girl, " Daddy whispered, a smirk playing across her lips.

You could feel yourself getting wet as the Latina slid her hand from your upper leg to the apex of your thighs. You bit back a moan as Daddy's hand finagled its way inside your underwear, finding that warm, wet heat of yours that had remained untouched for far too long. 

Two of Daddy's fingers, delicate yet strong, slid inside of you. She brought her lips up to meet yours, soft and warm yet desperate and urgent. 

The Latina pulled away from you, your open mouths pressed together for a brief moment. You panted against her jaw before her free hand shoved you down to the bed. Your hips bucked against her body as you took in a sharp breath, wanting more and more out of her. 

Daddy removed her fingers from you, causing you to let out a whine low in your throat. The Latina didn't let you go without for long, however. She tugged at your pants, bringing them down to your knees along with your white cotton panties that were now soaked through. You bit your lip again in anticipation as she grabbed your thighs, separating them to reveal your center. 

The first swipe of Daddy's tongue against your clit sent you into ecstasy. You threw your head back and moaned, your hands entangling themselves in her platinum blonde curls. The Latina's hands continued to grip your thighs, her nails digging into your flesh and leaving crescent-shaped marks. 

Holy shit. You couldn't believe this was actually happening. Prison sex wasn't something that had been on your bucket list, but regardless, it had been crossed off by now. Daddy's eager tongue and gentle mouth played with your swollen labia, gently sucking on your clitoris until you let out a moan, your hands tightening their hold on her curls. Your hips snapped forward into Daddy's jaw, your orgasm rolling around in your lower belly. 

Daddy's tongue languidly rolled itself over your clit again, her hands traveling up from your thighs to your hips, holding them down to the bed. She drew the stiff bud back and forth between her lips, flicking it with her tongue. Your hands left their place on her head, searching for something else to grab at. You chose the thin, prison-issued sheets, balling them in your hands as your center throbbed. 

Finally, after what seemed like hours, you came, your back lurching off the bed as you screamed your release. Daddy continued to eat you out until the warmth of her tongue and the pleasure it brought became too much. You pushed her head away, your legs vehemently shaking and your thighs stained with proof of your release. 

You needed a minute to catch your breath, to process what had just happened. Daddy stared expectantly at you, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she smirked. The Latina knew she was damn good, she knew that no one had made you come that hard before. She had to have known given the cocky smile that played upon her lips. 

You were at a loss for words. What did one usually say after a prison hook up? 'Thanks?' 'Bye?' 'See you later, alligator?' 

"So…" Daddy began, arching her eyebrow again. "You're welcome, " she replied to a non-existent thank you, letting out a tiny chuckle. 

Oh. 'Thank you' was what you were supposed to say after a prison hook-up. Good to know for future reference. 

You let out another tremulous breath, running your hands through your hair as you contemplated what to say. 

"You ain't got to say nothin', mama, " Daddy said, leaning forward as her hand rested on your thigh, dangerously close to your still throbbing center. 

The Latina narrowed her alluring chocolate brown eyes as she opened her mouth to speak. "Just know that this means you're mine now, " Daddy whispered, kissing your parted lips and making you taste yourself. 

She got up and left, leaving you in your cell to be alone with your thoughts.


	2. Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your shower gets interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, told ya I loved Daddy too much to make this a one-shot! Happy reading :)

"Y/N." 

You recognized the venom laced voice immediately without even having to turn around. It was Daddy, probably looking for another fuck. You scoffed, ignoring the Latina. She couldn't get into your pants that easy. 

You were in the shower, letting the lukewarm water cascade over your body. You continued to run the bar of soap you had gotten from commissary over your arms, disregarding the cold, hard gaze that bored into you from behind.

"I said, Y/N," Daddy hissed, her tone unfriendly and terse as she spoke your name. You felt your heart skip a beat at the sound of it leaving her lips, but you still refused to acknowledge her presence. 

You heard the shower curtain being roughly shoved to the side and felt a harsh, furious smack on your ass. You let out a small scream, but before you could turn around, you were pinned against the shower wall, droplets of water rolling off your skin and onto the floor. 

Daddy grabbed the shower handle, twisting it to turn it off before she leaned in towards you. 

"Listen, bitch," Daddy snarled, one hand holding your hair in a vice grip and one hand clutching your arm. Your chin was forcibly jutted out towards the ceiling, and your already slick center was beginning to throb. 

You couldn't help but wonder-- were you fucked-up from being turned on by this? 

"Nobody ignores Daddy. Least of all a brand-new cookie like you that thinks they know shit," the inmate whispered menacingly, her khaki-clad knee digging into the back of your naked thigh. 

You let out something between a moan and another scoff, adrenaline pumping through your veins at an electrifying mile a minute. Daddy yanked your hair back, slamming you against the shower wall again. Your nipples hardened against the tiles, your slippery, wet breasts rubbing up against each other. 

"Remember what I told you, baby girl? You're my bitch now. When I said you were mine, I meant it," Daddy growled, her hand that wasn't clutching your hair reaching down to grab at your ass. Her nails dug into the fleshy globe, leaving red marks that would deliciously sting for hours later. 

You let out a groan of both pleasure and pain at the Latina's marking of you, breaking the vow you made to yourself to stay silent. You quickly shook your head as if to rid your mind of any and all thoughts, your features hardening as you turned around to face Daddy as much as you could.

"Fuck off, Dominga," you snarled, opting to use Daddy's first name instead. The name didn't suit her whatsoever, you could barely blame her for hating it. But your goal was to egg her on, to anger her as much as you could until she forced you up against the shower tiles and had her way with you. 

Daddy's chocolate brown eyes met yours with a cold, hard, steely gaze that sent chills up and down your spine. Saliva pooled in your mouth, similar to the arousal pooling in your center. You narrowed your own eyes, brow furrowed, mouth in a thin, straight line. 

You spat in her face.

That got you what you wanted.

Daddy spun you around, one hand pawing at your breasts, the other still maintaining a hold on your dripping wet hair. Her lips met yours in a searing kiss before she pushed you against the wall one more time, her hands leaving your hair and breasts and traveling down to your thighs. 

Daddy knelt down to the shower floor, her knees sinking down into the shallow water. She carefully lifted both of your legs to rest on her shoulders, her hands cupping your ass. Your heart raced with anticipation as your palms lay flat against the wall. 

Suddenly, Daddy's features softened. "I won't let you fall, baby. I promise I won't let you fall," the Latina whispered, her thumb softly running up and down the side of your hip. 

You sighed, moistening your bottom lip before you smirked down at your blonde-haired lover. "Your knees are gonna get wet," you teased, playfully sticking out your tongue. 

Daddy rolled her eyes that had been so full of rage just moments ago. "They already are," she murmured, a soft smile playing across her lips before she dove into the center of your thighs. 

"Fuck," you drawled, your toes curling against Daddy's back as she laved you with her tongue. Her hands maintained their hold on your ass, occasionally tightening as your hips bucked against your lover's skilled mouth. 

Daddy's tongue ran up and down your core, her mouth claiming every inch of you. You let out a moan, not caring who heard, or if you fell, or about anything at all except the beautiful girl between your thighs that made your legs shake without even trying. 

The Latina's hands gripped your ass hard enough to bruise as she continued to lick you with fervor, closing those beautiful brown eyes and letting out a soft moan of her own. Daddy's tongue slipped within you, the flat length caressing your inner walls as her nose nudged at your clit. 

Your nails scraped against the tiles, your head thrown back in pure ecstasy. Daddy was just so good, better than all the girls you had been with before. So much better than your fingers, or any sex toy you had ever owned.

The Latina's tongue rolled over your clit again, making you gyrate your hips against her as you tried oh so hard to come, to finally feel that sweet, sweet release. 

Daddy slipped two of her agile fingers inside your wet center, hooking them inside of you and rubbing against your slick walls. She moaned against you again, her tongue flicking your clit so good that your legs nearly gave out. 

Oh, God. You were going to come. You were going to come, you were going to come harder than you ever had be--

Your train of thought came to a sudden, screeching halt as ecstasy pulsated through your body. You came hard, your legs shaking, tortured moans escaping from your open lips. You slowly slid down from your place on the wall, your ass plopping down on the shower floor so you were eye to eye with Daddy. 

You fought to regain your ability to breathe, forcing air in and out of your aching lungs. Daddy smirked, arching her eyebrows in that way she did after you had first 'fucked' as the Latina so gracefully put it. 

A blush spread across your face, a smile forming on your lips. "Thank you," you whispered, moistening your bottom lip as you spoke. 

Daddy let out something between a scoff and a laugh. "Ah, been workin' on your manners, huh, baby?" the Latina drawled. 

Daddy leaned over to you, planting a soft, warm kiss on your lips. She slowly got up, grasping the shower handle and turning it on. The water cascaded down your body again, sending a sudden jolt down your spine. 

Your lover smirked. "Enjoy your shower, baby girl, " Daddy whispered, closing the shower curtain behind her as she walked away from you.


	3. Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now this, THIS, is where the plot begins to thicken... 
> 
> But first, scissoring.

Daddy sat next to you on the bunk, plopping down with a loud sigh. She gave you an easy-going smile, her eyebrows slightly arched.

You furrowed your brow. Did she expect something out of you? Well, that was a stupid question-- you knew Daddy wanted sex again.

But, hey. You liked teasing her. It was pretty damn fun, playing dumb until neither of you could take it anymore.

"What?" you asked, a small laugh escaping from your lips. 

Daddy scoffed, looking you up and down. "The fuck you mean, 'what', you know what I'm here for," she said, widening her eyes at you. 

Oh, this was going just how you wanted it. You held back a smirk, twirling your hair around your finger. 

"Sorry, Daddy. I just don't know what you want out of me," you murmured. "I just don't quite know what you mean," you drawled, sticking out your bottom lip and giving the Latina those puppy dog eyes that you knew always worked on her. 

Daddy's eyes darkened further as she let out a cool exhale. She started at you, her cold, hard gaze boring into your soul as she leaned in even closer. 

You ignored the pleasurable heat beginning to pool inside your center as you slowly moistened your bottom lip. Your gaze drifted over every inch of your lover's (unfortunately clothed) body, bringing to mind everything Daddy had done to you before and everything you hoped she'd do soon.

"I just don't really know what you're lookin' for, Daddy, " you murmured, your hand coming to rest on her khaki-clad thigh.

Daddy's breathing hitched before she slowly ran her tongue over her bottom lip. She narrowed those beautiful brown eyes that you loved so dearly as your hand slowly but surely moved up towards her crotch. 

The Latina let out a soft moan as you began to rub at her through the khaki fabric of her uniform. Her hips suddenly jerked forward against your agile touch, her lips slightly parted. 

"I mean, come on, Daddy," you purred, leaning in so that your mouths were dangerously close together.

"I ain't a mind reader," you said, your hands snaking their way up Daddy's shirt. 

You were thrown off of your lover's body and pinned down to the bed in one fluid motion. You let out an arousal-tinged gasp as Daddy shoved one hand down your pants, and held your throat with the other. 

"Stop fuckin' around," Daddy whispered, her hand that wasn't gripping your throat rubbing your clothed clit. 

You let out a soft, strangled moan before a smirk played across your lips. 

"But it's so damn fun," you rasped out, your hand sliding up Daddy's shirt again to grope at the soft, firm breasts hidden beneath her uniform.

Daddy's gaze became hazy and gentle, almost loving, before her hand left your throat. She joined her hand with yours and brought it up to her other breast. The Latina let out a nearly imperceptible groan as she began to straddle you, rocking back and forth against your thigh. 

"You sure you want this?" Daddy whispered against your skin, leaning down to kiss your mouth. 

You nodded, taking slow, even breaths. You felt the weight of Daddy's breasts in your hands, but that wasn't nearly enough. You wanted to fuck her, to taste her, to plant kisses along her inner thighs and prove that you weren't some pillow princess. 

You shoved your lover down to the bed, your hands remaining on her breasts. Daddy's hand was still shoved down your pants, rubbing faster and harder as you tore her shirt off. 

"No bra, Duarte? I'm surprised at you," you half-heartedly chastised, the aching heat between your legs growing stronger by the second. 

In all honesty, Daddy did have nice breasts. Her dark brown nipples, which were already erect, stood high up on the firm, fleshy globes that were marked with your fingerprints. You smirked in satisfaction, your hands trailing the path down to her center that your mouth was to soon follow. 

"God, baby," Daddy moaned as you tugged at the pants of her uniform. She slowly bit her lip, her gorgeous eyes fixated on you, watching you and your every move. 

You couldn't help but grin as you made your way down to the middle of Daddy's thighs. You slid off your lover's pants until you saw a pair of white cotton panties (fuck, you hated that word) that were damp and sticky in the middle, an obvious sign of how badly Daddy wanted you. 

You raised your eyebrows, your fingers dancing across the moist, white fabric as you smiled. 

"Can I?" you whispered, so quietly that you could barely hear yourself.

Relief pooled in your chest as Daddy nodded, her hands entwining with your hair. 

You felt a sudden surge of adrenaline, one you hadn't felt before as you carefully slid the underwear off, pulling it down Daddy's thighs. 

Just as you had planned, you started off with small, nearly imperceptible kisses on Daddy's inner thighs, making the Latina's breath hitch once more. Your heart pounded with anticipation as you got closer and closer to Daddy's slick center. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, moistening your bottom lip as you uttered a silent prayer that you'd be good at this. 

You started with long, slow licks up and down Daddy's core, your hands clamping down on her thighs. Daddy moaned above you as your tongue ran over her clit.

You forced your eyes open, wanting to take in every inch of the beautiful girl. Daddy had her head thrown back in ecstasy, her eyes closed. Her lips were parted, moans escaping through them as you fucked her. 

"Faster, baby," Daddy panted, her cheeks flushed as you continued to lick her, softly sucking on the Latina's swollen clit as you flicked it with your tongue. 

God, you loved this. The hot, throbbing ache between your legs grew stronger as your tempo quickened, desperate to get Daddy off. 

Thankfully, your efforts were not fruitless. Daddy grabbed your hair again, grinding her pussy against your mouth. She let out another moan, longer this time. The Latina panted, her hips bucking against your aching tongue. 

"Y/N, I'm coming, I'm coming, baby, I'm coming," Daddy rasped, writhing in pleasure on the prison-issue sheets. 

You couldn't help but grin into Daddy's throbbing center, relishing in the satisfaction of knowing that you'd made her come. 

Turns out you weren't just some pillow princess. 

You lifted your face from between Daddy's thighs, licking her release off of your moist, glistening lips. You tried to process what you had just did, but the beautiful (and naked!) girl in front of you was making that absolutely impossible. 

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. A devilish smirk played across your lips as you stared up at Daddy, who was just coming down from the peak of pleasure. 

The pleasure you had brought her. 

Daddy panted hard, desperate to catch her breath as she balled up the prison-issue sheets in her hands. You watched her breasts rise up and down, her thighs still trembling uncontrollably. 

You continued to stare at her. Hopefully, Daddy would soon catch on and realize that you wanted more.

"What?" Daddy asked, a mildly irritated edge to her voice. Her thighs were still spread wide open so that you could see every inch of her (and then some.) 

"You want me to get you off, huh, baby? That's what you want?" Daddy growled, her hand finagling its way inside your pants. 

You purred, moistening your bottom lip before reluctantly pushing your lover's hand away. 

"Well, actually…" you slowly, carefully drawled, your core suddenly becoming significantly wetter as the moments passed. 

"I was hopin' we could try somethin' new," you said, your voice lowering to a whisper as you traced shapes on Daddy's bare thigh. 

Daddy's gaze narrowed as she arched an eyebrow inquisitively. "Like what?" 

You leaned in close, your hot breath tickling your lover's ear as your hand reached down to rub at her sensitive, still swollen clit. 

Daddy hissed, her hips bucking against your hand. "What is it, baby?" she growled, the wetness from her slick lips coating your fingers. 

The corners of your mouth turned up into a smirk as you quickened your pace.

"Scissoring," you murmured into Daddy's ear as your finger began to pulse in and out of the Latina's throbbing center. 

You could feel Daddy reciprocating your smirk as you kissed, her warm heat enveloping your finger.

"Sounds damn good to me, baby," the Latina murmured into your mouth, her words coming out in raspy breaths and moans. 

That was all you needed. You took off all your clothing, a sudden rush of cool air hitting your exposed body. You interlocked your legs with Daddy's, sliding your pussy against hers. 

You sucked in your breath at the unfamiliar sensation, unsure of what to do. You looked up at your lover, hoping to find some guidance. 

"You ever done this before?" you asked, your breathing ragged and uneven. 

Daddy rolled her eyes as she gave you an incredulous smirk. 

"Baby, I've done everything. Follow my lead." 

Daddy dragged her hard clit against yours, your swollen labia fitting perfectly with hers as you both began to grind. 

It was a strange sensation, really-- you didn't quite know how to describe it. 

What you did know, however, was that you hadn't felt anything this good in your entire life.

You let out a small moan before clamping your hand over your mouth. The last thing you needed was for a C.O to walk in and throw both you and Daddy in the SHU, or to become an unintentional peepshow for all of D-Block. 

"Y/N," Daddy groaned, her hips bouncing off of the bed in tandem with yours. 

You hissed in pleasure as you felt the familiar rush of heat that signified you were coming. You knew it wouldn't be long at all given how you felt your inner walls twitching fervently. 

Daddy's clit rubbed against yours with even more fervor, making you strain even further for that climax just out of reach. 

Before you could even realize it, you were catapulted over the edge, waves of pleasure crashing into you as you moaned your release. 

Daddy came almost immediately after you, the upper half of her body collapsing on the bed and her lower half continuing to gyrate against you. 

Raspy, strangled moans continued to leave Daddy's mouth long after she came down from the peak of pleasure, making your center stir again. 

The sounds Daddy made when coming were the most beautiful you had ever heard, and as she leaned back on her elbows with that gorgeous smirk, you could practically--

You snapped out of your ecstasy induced haze at the sound of several long, slow claps. Both you and Daddy bolted up from the bed at the sound, your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. 

An older woman with long, disheveled brown hair stood in the doorway, wrinkles marring her clearly once beautiful features. She was rail thin, with sunken eyes and a colorless complexion that could only belong to a junkie. 

Daddy spoke first. 

"Barb," she muttered, so quietly you could barely hear her. 

The Latina suddenly flinched, letting out something between a gasp and a yell as she grabbed the thin, soaked through sheets, tossing them over the both of you in a feeble attempt to avoid exposing yourselves.

"Hiya, there, Daddy-O," the older woman began, a cruel, sadistic smirk on her lips. She strolled over to the bunk, her arms crossed in front of her chest. 

Your blood immediately turned to ice as Barb (apparently, that was her name) stared you right in the eye. 

"Good to know this is what you've been doin' instead of doin' what you said you would," Barb drawled, every word dripping with malice. Her tone was laced with an underlying threat, sending chills up and down your spine. 

Barb's gravelly voice lowered to a whisper. 

"Or, should I say, who you been doin'," the brunette said, lifting up her finger and tracing shapes on the exposed skin of your thigh. 

It took every ounce of willpower you had not to flinch. 

Daddy let out a humorless laugh. "Barb, look, come on, I know I been a little busy lately--" 

Barb raised a finger to silence the Latina. 

"No excuses, Daddy-O. I better have it by Wednesday, and don't act like you don't know what I'm talkin' about," the older woman said in a calm, even tone, looking up at you again.

"You got a real pretty girl here, Daddy-O. Let's keep her pretty, hm?" Barb muttered, lips curling into a sadistic smirk that made your gut twist. 

Adrenaline and fear pumped through your veins at a million miles per minute before Daddy spoke again. 

"You-- you got it, Barb. Whatever you need, lady," Daddy stammered, desperately trying to sound confident and self assured. You could practically feel her trembling next to you. 

Barb slowly nodded, turning to you and giving you a wink before walking off, leaving you and Daddy alone in your bunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! We've got Barb in the mix now. This ain't mindless smut no more... 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. The next chapter will be coming soon! -Lucian


	4. Both Of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Two chapters within 24 hours. I'm great.

It had been a few days since you and Daddy had sex, which also meant it had been a few days since you had spoken to her. 

You'd seen her, of course. It was impossible not to, given the confined spaces the both of you were in. You shared the same cell, too, but Daddy barely spent any time there, while you were practically a hermit. 

Well, Daddy was certainly in the cell now-- you could hear her slow, even breaths from the bunk above you. 

It was late at night, or maybe real, real early in the morning. You didn't know, wasn't like you had a watch on you or anything. 

Regardless of the time, you couldn't sleep. You'd been staring at the wall for what felt like hours, but could have been minutes. You'd long given up on getting some shut-eye, anyway. Seemed impossible for tonight. 

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. A terrible one, yes, but still an idea. 

The urge to climb into Daddy's bed was nearly overwhelming for you. You didn't know if you wanted to bury your face in her chest, just like the Latina had done to you, or if you wanted to beg her to fuck you until she dove her head between your thighs and made your legs shake within minutes. 

The mere thought sent a jolt straight to your center. You let a small moan escape your lips, your hand slowly sliding down your waist to the slick heat between your thighs. 

You began to rub at your clit, your eyes fixated on the bunk above you. You could still hear Daddy's breaths, and the long pauses between them. She was stone-cold asleep, no doubt. 

You squeezed your eyes shut from the pleasure, your hips already beginning to buck against your hand. You wanted Daddy to grip your thighs hard enough to bruise as she ran her tongue up and down your core, you wanted to feel her fingers pulsing in and out of your slick center. You wanted Daddy's clit to grind against yours until you came all over each other, you wanted her to choke you and pull your hair and make you her bitch. 

"Fuck," you breathed, your inner walls beginning to contract as you came closer and closer to coming. 

You were so close. So, so close. You rubbed at the stiff bundle of nerves nestled between your thighs faster and faster, harder and harder until you let out another moan. 

You clamped your free hand over your mouth, biting down on the flesh as you rode your hand. You strained for that orgasm just out of reach, that one last push to send you over the edge--

"The fuck you think you're doin'?" 

You jumped, a scream bubbling up in your throat as you were pinned down to your mattress. Your heart raced and pounded simultaneously as you fervently trembled, unable to move. 

Slowly, very, very slowly, your eyes began to adjust in the darkness. You saw a familiar shock of platinum blonde hair and an impeccably sharp jawline that could only belong to one person-- Daddy. 

You nearly died from relief as you let out a long, slow, sigh. Before you could open your mouth to explain, Daddy's lips crashed into yours, effectively shutting you up. 

Daddy pulled away from you, one hand finagling its way inside your pants and one hand grabbing your chin to force you to look at her. 

"Now answer me. The fuck were you doin'?" the Latina angrily hissed, her fingers circling around your clit so good that your hips began to stir again. 

You groaned, your eyes rolling back in your head at the heat radiating from your slick, throbbing core. Your lips moved but words refused to leave them, and all you could do was grind against Daddy's hand and hope that she wouldn't stop.

"Were you touchin' yourself? Huh, baby?" Daddy whispered, her hand that wasn't rubbing at your swollen bud groping at your breasts. You moaned again, weakly nodding as your inner walls started to contract again. 

"I think you forgot that's my job," Daddy growled before leaning down, capturing your swollen, kiss-bruised lips with her mouth. 

You nodded again, unable to think as Daddy traced your soft, wet flesh with her fingertips. She was so good, so, so fucking good, and all you wanted was to come-- 

You clamped your hand over your mouth again, stifling a moan as your hips gyrated against Daddy's skilled touch. You came, harder than you ever had before, earning a satisfied chuckle from Daddy as your release dripped from her agile fingers. 

Daddy brought her fingers that glistened with your cum up to her mouth, her tongue enveloping them one by one. She smirked, her other hand still thumbing your nipples through the khaki fabric of your shirt. 

You grinned, your gaze hazy and unfocused from euphoria. Only Daddy knew how to make you come that hard, to make your center throb just at the thought of her. She knew what made you tick, and that terrified and amazed you all at the same time. 

Daddy licked even deeper into your mouth before she pushed you off the bed, making you go down to your knees on the floor. She rapidly removed her clothing, the bland khaki uniform falling next to you. 

And again, the Latina was naked. Her breasts, full, and firm, stood high up on her chest. They were capped by dark brown nipples that made your mouth salivate just by looking at them. Stretch marks and a scarce amount of freckles dotted Daddy's tan flesh, 'imperfections' that only made the Latina more beautiful to you. 

Daddy pulled you towards her, her hands stripping you of your clothing. The sudden rush of cold air you felt was nothing compared to the adrenaline pulsing through your veins. Your heart threatened to leap out of your chest as Daddy's mouth latched onto one of your breasts. 

You let out a barely audible moan as the Latina's rough tongue ran over your flesh, and another moan when it left. 

"All fours," Daddy demanded, hands landing on either side of your mattress. "Your pussy facing me," she said, her tone saturated with lust as she grabbed your hips. 

It fascinated you how easily vulgar words rolled off Daddy's tongue. You, you had moral objections to saying 'gosh darn it' but she…she was somethin' else entirely. 

You shrugged, obliging with the Latina’s demands as you got on the bunk, your breasts pressed against Daddy’s stomach. 

Electricity danced across your skin as Daddy roughly grabbed your ass, pulling your pussy towards her waiting mouth. 

You let out a long moan, your hands wrapping themselves around the back of Daddy’s thighs as you slowly grind your pussy against the Latina’s tongue. 

You must have stayed frozen for a little too long, since Daddy popped her head from between your thighs, muttering something about ‘69 ain’t a one woman show, baby girl,’ before running her tongue up and down your slit again.

You blinked hard, feeling incredibly stupid as you realized what you were supposed to do. 

Oh. 

You were supposed to fuck her. 

Truth be told, you had absolutely no idea what you were doing the first time you ate Daddy out. You'd been running on autopilot and adrenaline the entire time, not taking note of how you were moving your tongue or what you were really doing. All you knew was that the Latina had come, and as far as you were concerned, that was all that mattered. 

Clearly, that was coming back to bite you in the ass. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping for the best as you stuck out your tongue and brought it to the middle of Daddy's thighs. 

You'd been down there for less than thirty seconds before Daddy popped her head out from beneath your thighs. 

Your swollen labia stung at the sudden loss of contact, making you wince as your inexperienced tongue sloshed around.

Daddy kissed her teeth. "Girl…" she drawled, making her sound more like a petulant middle schooler than the drug dealing pimp she really was. 

The Latina gently pushed you off of her, the both of you sitting on the bunk. Your heart sank down to your stomach as you furrowed your brow. 

"Baby, that is not how you eat pussy," Daddy said, letting out an incredulous scoff as she shook her head. 

Your heart sank to even lower depths as you pressed your lips together. God, you just felt so dumb…

Daddy must have seen the look on your face and noticed your change in demeanor, because she planted a soft kiss on your temple and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. 

"Hey, baby, don't worry about it. If it helps, I was a whole lot worse when I first started out," the Latina said with a soft chuckle, her hand resting on the bare flesh of your thigh. 

The thought of Daddy with someone else sent a pang of jealousy through your chest. But, still, knowing you weren't the worst...eater-outer in the world brought you some small comfort. 

You quirked an eyebrow at Daddy. "How 'bout you show me the ropes, then?" you said after a few moments of silence. 

Daddy gave you another loveable smirk, her hands gripping your thighs and spreading them open to reveal your center. 

Your heart raced in anticipation as you felt Daddy's hot breath on your thighs. Her head descended.towards your slick core, her tongue swirling over your throbbing clit. 

You threw your head back in ecstasy, your hands tangling with Daddy's platinum blonde locks. Your eyes rolled back in your head again, white hot pleasure racing through your veins. 

You moaned again, not caring who heard, or who saw, or about anything but the gorgeous girl between your legs. You never really cared about much else when fucking (or rather being fucked by) Daddy, instead opting to close your eyes and focus on what you were feeling.

Not that you could focus on much else. 

Your orgasm caught you by surprise, just as it had when Daddy had fucked you with the strap-on. One minute, business as usual, the next minute, your legs were shaking, your clit was throbbing, and all you could do was buck your hips against the Latina between moans. 

When you had finally recovered, your entire body was flushed and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. You panted as your thighs trembled, giving Daddy that same hazy, euphoria induced grin you had minutes earlier. 

Daddy quirked an eyebrow. “Great lesson, huh, Y/N?” she said in a low, hushed voice that sent tingles up your spine. 

You let out a small chuckle. “Yeah.” 

Now, it was Daddy’s turn to grin. “Ready to try again?” the Latina asked. 

You nodded again, enthusiasm tinging your tone. "Hell yeah." 

The both of you resumed the position you had been in only a few minutes ago, your breasts against your lover's stomach, your core throbbing in anticipation. 

You lowered your pussy onto Daddy's tongue, instantly feeling a jolt of pleasure up your abdomen. Just as you had before, you gripped Daddy's thighs and brought her center up to your face. 

You swirled your tongue over your lover's clit, careful not to go too hard too early. 

Clearly, you were doing something right, because Daddy's hips bucked against your face as she let out a moan that was muffled by your swollen labia. 

Daddy's grip on your ass intensified even further, making you let out a moan of your own. You could feel the Latina getting wet across your tongue as you continued to lick her, which gave you the courage to drag your tongue up and down her slit. 

"Fuck," Daddy breathed against your soft flesh before going back to softly sucking on your clitoris, her tongue flicking the stiff bud over and over. 

You could already feel your orgasm building up inside of you, your thighs shaking and your stomach tightening. You dragged your tongue over Daddy's clit, loving the way her hips snapped forward into your chin as she let out muffled moans beneath your body. 

You grinned into your lover's flesh. You were in control now, or at least that was what Daddy let you believe. 

"Baby, Y/N, I'm coming," Daddy rasped, moaning into your pussy as her hips gyrated against your lips and tongue. 

You couldn't help but smirk, knowing you were the one that was making her come, knowing you were why she was writhing on the mattress. You'd always have that satisfaction, that precious, intimate knowledge that no one else had but you. 

You could feel Daddy spasming against your mouth as she let out strangled moans, her nails raking across the fleshy globes of your ass. She continued to lick you until you came, too, your legs nearly giving out as you vehemently shuddered.

You rolled your tongue over Daddy's clit in an attempt to stifle the moans leaving your lips. The rush of heat to your center was almost too intense for you, and as you let out several sharp pants, you could have sworn you were going to roll off the bed and fall to the floor. Your body gave in to Daddy's skilled mouth, your head collapsing between the Latina's thighs. 

Shortly after, you pulled away from one another. Both of you were breathing heavily, and neither of you wanted this moment to end, you were sure. 

You grabbed your clothing off of the floor, holding it close to your body. "I think you oughta go back to your bunk now," you said quietly, intently looking Daddy in the eyes.

Daddy slowly shook her head, never breaking eye contact with you. 

"No. No, I wanna stay in your bed tonight," the Latina whispered, raising her eyebrows as she cupped your face with her hand. 

You sighed and shrugged, letting out a small chuckle. Daddy never gave up, you had to admit it. 

"Okay, you can stay in my bed tonight. But only if you put your clothes back on," you instructed, widening your eyes so the Latina knew you were serious. 

Daddy groaned before begrudgingly putting her clothing back on, muttering something about you being a tease.

You laughed, redressing yourself as you laid next to Daddy, your back pressed against her chest. 

Daddy laced her fingers with yours, draping your entwined hands around your waist. She softly kissed your shoulder before resting her chin on it. 

"Goodnight, baby, I love you," Daddy whispered. 

"Goodnight. Love you too," you said in reply, a soft smile playing across your lips. 

Your eyes shot open. 

She what?


	5. Rough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You confront Daddy about dropping the L-Bomb.

"Listen, Daddy, we need to talk," you said, climbing the ladder to Daddy's bunk and plopping down on the mattress. 

The Latina quirked an eyebrow, her lips parted in confusion. "About?" 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to calm yourself. You couldn't go into this all fired up and emotional, if you did, Daddy would never take you seriously. 

You let out another sigh, your lips forming a straight-lined grimace before you spoke. 

"A few days ago…" you began, your words trailing off at Daddy's intent gaze. 

Courage suddenly swelled up in your chest as you opened your mouth to speak again. 

"A few days ago, you told me you loved me," you said, your tone neutral and even. You swallowed the spit accumulating in your mouth, unease brewing in your stomach.

Daddy sighed, her gaze breaking away from yours as she moistened her bottom lip. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her jaw clenched. 

You let out a sigh of your own, unsure of what to say or do. You were never a big fan of all the ooey-gooey emotional crap that came with being in a relationship-- or in your case, friends with benefits (in prison.) 

"And I just wanted to know if you really meant it," you blurted out, the words crawling their way out from your throat before you could swallow them back down. 

Daddy hopped down from her bunk to the floor, rolling her eyes as she muttered something about 'not having this conversation with you, so go kick off.'

Your heart plummeted down to your stomach, your shoulders slumping down. All of a sudden, fire raced through your veins, pooling hotly in the core of your stomach. 

You hopped off the bunk as well. So much for going in level headed and calm. 

Daddy sat down with her crew, her arm casually around the waist of a scrawny girl with bags under her eyes and a mop of greasy blonde hair.

You didn't know what you felt more of-- jealousy or rage.

Jealousy, because it was your waist Daddy was supposed to have her arm around.

Rage, because the Latina couldn't even give you the time of day, because to Daddy, her little junkie whore was infinitely more important than you. 

And hurt, because you bared your soul to Daddy, exposing all of your flaws and imperfections and the little quirks you hated and she did not care. 

Daddy had torn your soul into tiny little pieces and thrown them away over her shoulder, never to look back. She had manipulated you, made you think you were something special and wonderful and ran away the second things got serious. 

She had exploited you. Exploited you just like he had.

Daddy's way was different, less violent and sickening. So subtle, so gentle that you didn't even know it was happening. 

He had gotten you so drunk you could barely walk, he had thrown you on that mattress and had his way with you. He made you reek of bourbon and cigarettes for days afterward, he was responsible for all those nine-hour long baths that did nothing but make you feel dirtier. 

His vile, putrid blood had stained your nail beds as you stuck a knife between his ribs. 

And all Daddy did was smile your way. 

You grabbed the Latina by the back of her collar, nearly bringing her down to the cold, hard, metal floor. Daddy spun around in shock, her hand leaving the blonde's waist. Good. 

"Listen, I told you already, I'm not having this conversation with you, so go bother somebody else," the Latina snarled after a brief pause, her normally kind brown eyes now fiery with rage. 

You set your jaw, fury coursing through your veins.

"Go bother somebody else? You said you love me, then you don't say a word to me for days and days, then I confront you, and you just walk away? Yeah, that's real classy, Dominga. Soundin' like somebody's fuckin' Abuela," you hissed, scarlet ebbing at the corners of your vision. Your chest ached from the effort of your words, blinding rage laced through each syllable. 

Daddy slowly got up, shaking off the blonde's grip. 

You let out a tremulous breath. "What?" 

The Latina's eyes narrowed as she got dangerously close to you, your lips nearly touching, but not quite. 

Your heart raced. 

"You think it's cute to talk to me like that in front of my crew?" Daddy whispered, her voice low enough to the point where it was barely audible, even to you. You shuddered, knowing that Daddy was at her most dangerous when she was quiet. 

The Latina grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her. 

"Answer me." 

You stayed silent, your gaze never leaving hers. 

Daddy grabbed you by the crook of your elbow, her nails digging into your flesh. She inclined her head towards your ear, her words making you bristle.

"Let me show you what happens when you fuck with Daddy." 

Moments later, you were pinned against the bathroom wall, your clit throbbing and your heart racing.

Daddy slid her hands underneath your shirt before roughly tearing it off, leaving your breasts exposed. Your pants were next, the khaki fabric being tossed to the floor. 

You growled into the Latina's mouth as she stripped you, keeping you pinned under the showers. Thankfully, the two of you were alone, there were no prying eyes or peeping toms looking for some action. 

Your jaw fell open as Daddy took a pair of handcuffs out from her shirt, twirling them around her index finger as she smirked. 

Furrowing your brow, you opened your mouth to speak. 

"Where'd you get those?" you rasped, ignoring the rush of arousal going straight to your throbbing center. 

"Swiped them off some dumbass C.O, " Daddy said as she grabbed your wrists. You sucked in a sharp breath as the Latina handcuffed both of your wrists to the shower handle, her mouth still dangerously close to yours. 

Adrenaline raced through your veins as you planted an open mouthed kiss on Daddy, your teeth grazing her lower lip. 

Daddy grabbed your chin, pulling you away from her. Her eyes had that same fire they did only moments ago, but now, they held an emotion you couldn't pinpoint. 

"If I hurt you, tell me to stop," the Latina hissed, her thumbs digging into your jaw. 

You smirked as best you could. 

"I will," you rasped, your core throbbing with arousal. 

Daddy gave you a smirk of her own, her fingers lazily gliding over your slick folds. 

Your breath hitched as your hips began to rock against the Latina's touch. If she kept teasing you like this…

You let out a sudden yell of a surprise when Daddy jammed her fingers into your swollen center, her thumb rapidly circling over your engorged clit. 

A moan escaped your lips, your inner walls pulsing around Daddy's fingers. You threw your head back in ecstasy, the mild ache in your wrists from being handcuffed nothing but a distant feeling. 

"You like that?" the Latina growled, already knowing the answer as her free hand palmed your breasts. 

You feebly nodded, already feeling that familiar fire burning in your lower belly. Fuck, how was it so easy for Daddy to get you off--

"Oh, I know you like that, baby," Daddy growled, her tone suave and smooth as her lips brushed against yours. 

You groaned, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. What could you do but agree with her? 

"Hm...maybe you like it a little too much," the Latina drawled, her pace slowing, slowing, then stopping. 

Your eyes shot open, your center aching from the sudden loss of sensation. "Why'd you stop?" you snapped, anger already seeping through your body. 

Daddy smirked, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she stepped back. 

"Thought you hated me, Y/N," the Latina murmured, a cocky, all too clever chuckle escaping her lips. 

You swallowed the spit accumulating in your mouth. 

"I do hate you," you growled, the untruth scorching the walls of your throat. 

You did. 

You hated Daddy. 

Didn't you? 

"You hate me, huh?" 

The Latina cocked her head to the side, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. 

You took in a sharp breath, adrenaline racing through your veins as Daddy walked over and placed a hand on the shower wall next to you. 

"If you hate me so much…" Daddy drawled, her fingers lazily gliding over your folds just as they had before. 

"Then why'd you let me fuck you?" 

Daddy's words were short and clipped, devoid of any emotion or intent. Oh, but you knew better, you knew this bitch inside out. Every word Daddy spoke, everything she did, was part of some sick, twisted game she'd been playing before she'd even gotten to Max.

You shrugged as best you could, ignoring the throb between your thighs.

"You were just there," you replied, pressing your lips together until pink turned into white. 

Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, you were in love with her from the second you saw her-- 

"Yeah, and you saying 'I love you' was just out of convenience, too, right?" Daddy said, giving you a shrug as she leaned in even closer. 

Anger brewed in your gut, fury making your chest flush bright pink. Like she was any better than you, Miss Pimp-Turned-Personal-Bitch-To-A-Murderous-Senior-Citizen. 

But the truth was, Daddy was more than a good fuck-- you were either in love or falling in love or somewhere in between, a stage you didn't know existed until now. 

And she thought of you as nothing.

"I meant it," you spat out, your words all venom and hatred and anger. And you did, you meant it with every fiber in your being. Love didn't come easily to you anymore, and love confessions were even harder. 

"And so did I," Daddy whispered without missing a beat, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing hard. 

You grit your teeth together to bite back a moan, your hips rocking against the Latina's touch. Oh, God, she was just too good to be true--

You were trying desperately hard to find your words, finish your sentence, continue with what you were saying, but the pleasure you were feeling made that nearly impossible. 

"Fuck," you finally gasped, your inner walls pulsating as you teetered on the edge. You fervently shook your head, what were you going to say?

"If you said-- if you meant it, then why'd you fuckin' run away when I asked you about it?" you hissed, fury coating your tongue with every word you spoke. 

You wanted a goddamn answer, and God help you, you were going to get one. Even if you were getting fucked in a prison shower. 

Daddy remained silent, her eyes never breaking away from yours despite how they darkened with anger. 

"So what if I love you, anyway? You really think it matters here, Y/N, where everybody just wants to get through the day without getting shanked?" the Latina growled, her fingers running over your clit in smooth circles. 

"Sounds like you're just scared of commitment," you snapped, the words rolling off your tongue before you could stop them. 

Daddy flinched, letting out a sharp, tremulous breath of her own before her pace between your thighs quickened. 

Oh, you got her now. You had her fuckin' pinpointed.

The Latina narrowed her eyes, her lips almost, almost touching yours. Your heart raced. 

"No, no, you got it wrong. You're the one that should be scared, baby," Daddy hissed, her tone like ice through your veins. Her fingers left your clit to probe inside of you, crooking and curling to hit that spot she knew you liked. 

"Oh, yeah?" you taunted, your voice overwhelmed by pants and moans. 

"Don't you know, Y/N? I got all these bitches under my thumb. I say the word, and they'll carve your pretty little face up, no questions asked," Daddy hissed, her free hand snaking up to your throat and applying just the right amount of pressure you needed. 

You teetered on the edge of living and dying, of pain and pleasure as your orgasm burst forth against the Latina's fingers, soaking each digit as moans clawed their way out of your throat. 

"I'd like to see 'em try," you hissed, ecstasy rushing through your veins until you threw your head back, your body giving out as you moaned. 

Daddy uncuffed you mere moments later, the click echoing within the empty room.

Your heart leaped into your chest as Daddy grabbed you by the chin, her nails forming crescent shaped marks on your jawline. 

"You're a real cunt, Y/N," the Latina hissed, smashing her lips against yours before shoving you away, your head smacking against the rough tile of the shower wall. 

You waited until after she left to start crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo-wee!! I know Daddy may have gotten a little too rough in this chapter, but I promise it'll be discussed in the next chapter. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! See you soon :)


	6. All Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is definitely the longest one yet! There's hella hurt/comfort, oh, and squirting. Enjoy.

You walked into your cell, slowly, gingerly lying down on the bunk. You clutched the back of your head, the area still aching from being smacked against the shower wall. 

Your heart leaped into your throat as you saw Daddy lying in her bunk, leafing through some fashion magazine that probably doubled as her masturbation material. 

The Latina didn't say anything to you, not that that was unexpected or out of character for her. You'd lowered your standards since what had happened yesterday. 

You'd thought that mouthing off to Daddy would change things, and it did anything but. She hated you now, long gone was the love she might've had for you. 

Seeing Daddy made nausea coil tight in your stomach. Besides, sooner or later she'd see you staring at her like a….starer. 

God, where were your metaphorical abilities when you needed them most? 

You quickly climbed into your bed, taking slow, even breaths. You resisted the urge to hiss in pain as you lowered your head against your pillow. 

That being said, the physical pain was nothing compared to what you felt. 

Used. Discarded. Violated. 

Emotions you were all too familiar with. 

Emotions only he made you feel. 

Heat pricked at the corners of your eyes, tears rolling down the apples of your cheeks. You clamped a hand over your mouth, your shoulders beginning to shake uncontrollably. 

Don't look weak. Don't look weak. 

God, this was just like your first day in prison. No, this-- this was decidedly worse than your first day. At least then, you didn't know Daddy. She hadn't yet ripped your heart out from your chest, crushing the organ between her fingers until it was a messy, gory pulp. 

Your stomach turned as a sob bubbled up in your chest, clawing its way out of your throat. There was no way in hell Daddy hadn't heard that, unless she'd somehow become deaf since you'd last spoken. 

Daddy let out a loud sigh from the bunk above. You could hear her slamming the magazine down on her bed, the paper making a harsh crackling noise. 

Your pulse shot up as the Latina climbed down the ladder to your bed, squatting down next to you as she let out another sigh. 

Fuck, you probably looked so pathetic to her--

"I know I'm supposed to be angry at you, but are you okay?" 

A fresh wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving your skin stained in their wake. You vehemently shook your head, something guttural and raw leaving your lips as you sat up.

Your eyes met with Daddy's for the first time in twenty four hours. 

Her eyes bore nothing of the rage and resentment they had last time. No, instead they held warmth and love and concern, all for you. 

Shit. This whole hating Daddy thing wasn't working out for you too well. 

Another cry squeezed past your lips as you violently shuddered, your stomach constricting painfully with the intensity of your sobs. Your chest burned with embarrassment, or anger, or both. At this point, you weren't entirely sure what was what. 

"Hey, baby, it's okay," Daddy drawled, plopping down on the bunk and planting a small kiss on your temple. 

The Latina's attempt at comforting you only made you cry harder, your lungs aching with the effort of your sobs. 

It was strange, really. Daddy was the one who had hurt you, the one who had made you feel this terrible and unloved. And yet here she was, whispering soft, soothing words and peppering with you even softer kisses. 

You looked up, your breathing slowing down to tremulous, ragged shudders. You couldn't help but wonder who would speak first and break the tension filled silence-- you or Daddy. 

Your unspoken question was quickly answered as Daddy quirked an eyebrow, opening her mouth to speak.

"You feelin' any better now?" the Latina asked, cocking her head to the side as she furrowed her brow. 

You set your jaw, your teeth grinding against one another as you desperately tried to find your words. 

Shaking your head, you answered Daddy's question the best way you knew how to: With the truth. 

"You hurt me," you whispered, your voice overrode by the last of your choked out, strangled sobs. 

Daddy's warm brown eyes widened as her gentle yet firm grip on your shoulder loosened. She furrowed her brow again, her lips parted in confusion.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you let out another tremulous breath. Why were the most necessary things the hardest?

"You hurt me, Daddy. You made me feel like shit, and then you avoided me, and then you acted like all you had to do was fuck me to make it better," you seethed, another guttural sob clawing its way out of your throat. Red ebbed at the corners of your vision, your hands vehemently shaking in your lap. 

Daddy looked down, clasping her hands in front of her as she moistened her bottom lip. 

She looked sheepish. Guilty, almost. You could see her ears blushing and burning bright red, giving the Latina an oddly elvish appearance. 

It was kind of cute. 

You didn't let it deter you.

"And it's like you don't think about anybody but yourself, Daddy. Like you and your problems are the only things that matter, screw-- fuck everybody else," you continued, jabbing your finger at the Latina. 

Daddy flinched as if you had hit her, letting out a tremulous breath of her own. Her frame seemed to shrink underneath your words, and even though it was sick, you were glad that you now controlled the air. 

"And I'm tired of it, Daddy. I'm tired of it. Because I've been through a lot, and I got way too much self respect to put up with your bullshit anymore," you said, anger clipping short every word you spoke. 

You paused for a moment, a shaky breath passing through your lips as you stared at the Latina.

Daddy averted her gaze, looking guilty as sin as she wrung her hands in her lap. She let out a shuddering breath before turning away, her back facing towards you. 

You felt the pit in your stomach grow deeper before you turned away as well, hugging your knees to your chest. For only a moment, you felt a spark of guilt inside you, making you uncomfortably hot and freezing cold all at the same time. 

For only a moment. 

× × × 

It was sometime in the middle of the night. If you had to guess, it was maybe two or three judging by the complete and utter silence-- something very unusual at Litchfield Max. 

Well, no, not completely silent. 

Daddy was just as unable to sleep as you were, judging by the tossing and turning in the bed above you. 

You sighed. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, or in your case, a jolly rancher shiv. Both of you were upset, and as far as you were concerned, only you had a right to be. 

Well, maybe you were being unfair. You were being pretty harsh, but...you had to lay down the law, and--

For fuck's sake. 'Lay down the law.' What were you, a third grade teacher? 

You shook your head. 

No. No, you couldn't let anyone treat you like that again. 

Your jaw clenched as memories came flooding back, permeating your mind as you burrowed even further underneath your flimsy covers. 

Your father.

He'd never really loved you. Told you he did, but never meant it in the slightest. Only groaned it out when he had you pinned under his sweaty, smelly form on his flea infested mattress. 

You shuddered, the memory sending a bolt of agony throughout your body. 

You'd come so, so, so, so, so close to killing him. So fucking close. But, you'd fucked up-- narrowly missed an artery-- and you were in this shithole and your father was out walking free. 

Tears squeezed themselves out of your eyes, staining the flesh of your cheeks and forming dark blotches on the sheets underneath you. 

He was nothing like Daddy, and Daddy was nothing like him. But, still-- they'd made you feel the same way. 

You heard a sob from the bunk above you, making you painfully cringe as you wiped your own tears to the side. 

It was strange, really, how quickly you and Daddy had reversed roles. Just this morning, you'd been the one sobbing in your bunk, lungs burning, silently begging for empathy until Daddy climbed the ladder down to you and tried her damndest to make you feel better. 

And you'd pushed her away. 

Well, no, you'd told her off, and now she was hurt, and...truth be told, you didn't know how you felt. 

But hey, Daddy was your kinda-maybe-sorta prison wife, and as her kinda-maybe-sorta prison bitch, you had a duty to comfort her whenever she was upset. 

You slowly got up, careful not to hit your head on the bunk. 

Letting out a sigh of your own, you swallowed the unease bubbling up in your throat. 

"Hey." 

Your voice cut through the air like a knife, surprising even yourself as the room immediately went silent. 

You paused, letting out another sigh as you shook Daddy's shoulder. 

No response. 

"You know you don't have to front, right? I already heard you crying." 

Daddy turned around, eyes red rimmed and swollen, hair a greasy, disheveled mess. She looked older, more worn down. Less full of life. 

God, you hated seeing her like this. Nauseated you to the core. 

Daddy let out a tremulous breath, tossing her blanket to the side and sitting cross legged on the mattress. She grimaced, eyes still avoiding yours. 

Your heart skipped a beat as your gaze drifted down south, a rush of arousal going straight to your center. 

Daddy had tied up her nightgown around her hips, exposing the white cotton sheath of her underwear. You could see the outline of her breasts underneath the thin gray fabric, making you take in a sharp breath. 

What were you here for? Oh, right, right. Comfort. 

Daddy sniffled, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. 

"You gonna tell me off again or what?" the Latina choked out, her tone sounding all scratchy and raw, like every word hurt to say. 

You grimaced. How long had Daddy been crying?

You shook your head. "No, I'm not gonna tell you off again, Daddy." 

Daddy furrowed her brow. "Then why are you here?" the Latina asked incredulously, her voice thick with raw, unfiltered emotion that you'd only heard from her once before. 

You sighed again, shrugging off the memory of Daddy burying her face in your chest and sobbing uncontrollably, clutching onto you like you were her one and only lifeline. 

"I don't want you to think I'm mad at you," you started off, already climbing the ladder to Daddy's bunk. You plopped down on the mattress, your feet hanging off the edge of the bed. 

Daddy responded with silence. 

"I don't want this to end, Daddy. But I can't do--- I can't keep up with this whole prison-friends-with-benefits thing anymore," you said, a fresh rush of tears threatening to escape you, to push past your eyelids and roll down your cheeks. 

The thought of leaving Daddy behind, of ending this, whatever it was, chilled you to the bone. 

But with every second that Daddy avoided your gaze, and each time she fucked you good and hard and then left immediately, that possibility was becoming more and more of a reality. 

"You were right." 

You flinched, surprised both by the sudden lack of silence between the two of you. Not only that, but what Daddy had just said-- what did she even mean? 

The confusion on your face must have been apparent. Daddy looked you straight in the eye for the first time since you'd climbed up to her bunk.

"You were right. I am afraid of commitment." 

Your jaw dropped open, your mouth forming an 'O' shape as you leaned back in surprise. 

Holy fuck. 

Did Dominga 'Miss Pimp Turned Personal Bitch To A Senior Citizen' 'Big Pimp Mack Daddy' 'Mack Daddy' 'Daddy' Duarte just admit you were right about something? 

Had hell frozen over?

Were pigs flying? 

Were you having some sort of drug induced hallucination? Shit, you knew your water tasted off for some reason. 

You scoffed, fervently shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm right?" you said, the words not sounding right (ha-ha, very punny) as they rolled off your tongue.

Daddy nodded, crossing her arms in front of her chest and moistening her bottom lip. She sighed, opening her mouth to speak again. 

"Yeah. You were right." 

You closed your eyes, letting the words settle in to your skin as you started to ruminate over what to say. 

"Don't-- don't say anything," Daddy said, holding up a finger as if to to silence you. 

You slowly nodded, another grimace playing across your lips. What did she want with you, anyway? 

"I want you, Y/N. I want you, and I don't mean just for sex. I want to know everything about you. All the simple stuff, like your favorite color. But the deep stuff, too, like why you are the why you are." 

Okay, so, clearly love confessions weren't her thing, but you could let that slide. 

"Everything, Y/N. You're...you're just so beautiful, inside and out, and you're amazing, really, and I can't imagine life without you, and I am so, so, so sorry for ever hurting you. And I don't want us to be over. Shit, whatever this is, I can't be without it. I can't be without you." 

Daddy stared at you intently, taking your hand in hers and bringing it to her lips. Your heart fluttered within your chest, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

You didn't know what kind of cheesy rom-com you'd walked into, but there was no way in hell you were leaving anytime soon. 

"Don't let go, Y/N. Please don't. Because I love you, I really do, and--" 

Before Daddy could finish her sentence, you slammed your lips against hers, your tongue probing her mouth and your hands in her hair. 

The kiss soon began to become more intense, more passionate, more raw. Daddy grabbed both of your breasts through your nightgown, her fingers pinching and pulling at the stiff peaks of your nipples. 

You groaned, feeling a rush of heat straight to your core before reluctantly pushing Daddy's lips away. 

Daddy looked confused for a brief moment, her brow furrowed and her eyes wide. The Latina's hands were still full of your clothed breasts, and her thighs were still pinned against yours. 

"Y-you good?" Daddy stammered out, her frame seeming smaller all of a sudden. For once, she looked uneasy, unsure of herself and afraid.

You took a deep cleansing breath, propping yourself up on your elbows before you spoke. 

"Promise you didn't say all that to get at this golden pussy?" you drawled, quirking an inquisitive, doubtful eyebrow at the Latina. 

Daddy soberly nodded. "Promise." 

You let out a tremulous breath. This was either the dumbest or smartest thing you had ever done, and you weren't sure if you wanted to know which. 

"Okay," you whispered. 

Daddy pinned you against the mattress again, her hands leaving your breasts and traveling down to your thighs, pulling your underwear down to your ankles before nonchalantly tossing it to the side. 

Your heart raced in anticipation, knowing what was going to happen next as Daddy tore off your nightgown and threw it down next to your underwear. The Latina grabbed your thighs, tossing your legs over her shoulders before bringing your center to her lips. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head, white hot pleasure shooting through your veins as your hips bucked against Daddy's face. 

Daddy's agile tongue worked over your clit in rapid yet smooth circles, her index and middle sloppily thrusting in and out of your center and occasionally grazing over your swollen labia. 

God, you'd missed this so bad. Yes, you and Daddy had fucked yesterday, but that was all rage and hatred, there wasn't any love or tenderness in her touch as she'd shoved you against the shower wall. 

And yet here Daddy was-- licking at you between your thighs, her hands snaking up your waist to grope at your breasts. 

You choked down a strangled moan, your hands gripping the thin blanket underneath you. Daddy intensified her lick and touch, her fingers rubbing against your pulsing walls with more and more fervor. 

"I'm close," you whispered, your hands pressing against the back of Daddy's head, hard enough to keep her there, light enough so she could breathe. 

Your hips bucked against Daddy's chin, fingers entwined with her whitish-blonde curls. You felt that immediate rush of heat to your throbbing core, a moan passing through your kiss bruised lips. 

And with that, you came hard. Your walls clenched, then unclenched, then clenched again around Daddy's fingers as the heat of her mouth enveloped your clit.

You felt Daddy chuckle against your swollen labia, her tongue resuming its pace inside of you as her hands held your thighs down.

Jesus. Was she already trying to go for round two? Your head collapsed against the warmth of your pillow, each expert stroke of Daddy's tongue chipping away at your logic. 

It was a miracle you were able to think at all given how good Daddy was fucking you. Your shaking legs wrapped around her lean torso, keeping the Latina in place as her upper lip brushed against your stiff bud. 

Your back arched off the bed as Daddy's tongue softly stroked your inner walls, her fingers tightening their possessive hold on your upper thighs. How was she so good-- 

Your orgasm ripped through you once again, your clit throbbing almost painfully as Daddy's slick tongue rolled over it. Moans and pants escaped your lips despite your best efforts, heat pulsing throughout your body as you collapsed against the bed. 

"Daddy, Daddy, I'm done," you gasped, pushing the Latina's head away. You were satisfied, satiated, finished, over, done. 

Apparently, Daddy didn't think so. 

"Mm-mm," she muttered in reply, her voice muffled by your swollen labia. Daddy shook her head, gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise, hard enough to mark you, hard enough to let everyone know who you belonged to. 

And within a matter of minutes, you fell off the edge of ecstasy for the third time. 

Your chest heaved with every ragged breath you took, fire replacing the air you breathed, scorching your lungs and the walls of your throat.

Daddy slowly but surely moved from her place between your thighs, propping herself up on her elbows. She gave you another smirk, her warm brown eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint that you knew all too well. 

"What?" you asked between pants, fighting hard to catch your breath. 

Daddy wordlessly grabbed you by the front of your nightgown, pulling you on top of her. You moaned into her mouth as your lips crashed into hers, your hips pressed against her exposed thigh. 

The Latina suddenly pushed you upright, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you towards her even further so your knees were on either side of her body. 

"Come here," Daddy growled, lifting your hips up once again and latching onto you with her mouth.

Your eyes rolled back in your head once more, your jaw jutting out towards the ceiling. 

You ground your core against Daddy's agile tongue. She moaned softly, the noise vibrating up within you and making your hips buck against her mouth. 

"I'm so close," you gasped. The Latina let out another soft moan as your hands slid down her body as best they could. 

"I'm, I'm…" you whispered, your voice becoming higher and higher and needier and needier right as you finally came.

You slumped forward, fighting to catch your breath between strangled moans and pants. Daddy kept at it between your legs, her hands reaching around to grab your ass. 

Tears forced themselves out of the corners of your eyes as Daddy licked a painful stripe up your core, toying at your clit with the tip of her tongue. 

"I'm done, baby, I'm done," you whined, desperately trying to push Daddy's head away. You were too lost in ecstasy to notice it was the first time you'd called her a pet name.

"I'll decide when you're done," Daddy growled, sending a borderline painful jolt straight to your center.

And so, Daddy made you come again. 

And again. 

And again. 

And again, until you were a sloppy, disheveled, glassy-eyed, beautiful mess. 

Warm liquid gushed out of you after the eighth orgasm and on to Daddy's face. Another gasp escaped your lips as you slowly got off of the Latina, collapsing against the mattress. 

Your eyes widened with horror. Had you just--

"No, you didn't piss on me," Daddy said through coughs and splutters, wiping your release off of her face. You furrowed your brow, confused. 

Daddy quirked an eyebrow, coughs still clawing their way out of her throat. Your upper lip curled into a smile at her vulnerability. Poor thing. She was absolutely drenched. 

"It's called squirting, Y/N," Daddy explained to you, her chest heaving up and down as she spoke. 

You stared, still confused. 

Daddy let out an exasperated sigh. "It's when you come really hard. It's like, y'know, girl cum," she drawled, placing a warm hand on your still shaking thigh. 

"I've been trying to make a girl do that since I was sixteen,” Daddy muttered, chuckling softly underneath her breath. 

You couldn't help but grin, grabbing Daddy by the face and planting a kiss on her lips.

"Glad to be your first, then," you murmured into the kiss, your hands gliding up Daddy's thighs to her underwear. 

You slowly tugged at the white cotton, eliciting a surprised gasp from Daddy. 

"Y/N, what are you doing?" she moaned as your fingers probed her wet heat. 

"Reciprocating," you whispered, pinning Daddy down to the mattress. 

You smirked. 

Now she was all yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nowwww you see why I took two weeks to update!! Chapter nine is coming soon.


	7. Marked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to write this! Google Docs deleted it (twice), and I lost motivation for a while, and I've been going through hella stress, and I wasn't sure what to do with the story, and just ahhHHHHHHHHHHH but enjoy the read💗💗

__ _"Fuck, Y/N," Daddy growled, her hands entwining with your hair as you drew her stiff bud back and forth between your lips, lashing it with the tip of your tongue._

_Another moan escaped Daddy's lips as two of your fingers slid inside her, probing her wet heat. You hooked your fingers against her front wall, wanting, no, needing to find that specific spot to bring her over the edge._

_Your center throbbed as Daddy gave your hair a sharp yank, a soft moan escaping through your lips. The Latina ground her throbbing clit against your agile tongue as you quickened your tempo._

_Admittedly, you still weren't the most proficient at…this. But, then again, having been a pillow princess until you landed your ass in Litchfield Max, you had a sort-of excuse._

_Besides, Daddy was more than happy to let you practice on her._

_"Harder," Daddy gasped, her hips bucking against your chin with every skillful stroke of your aching tongue._

_You obeyed without question as you ground your tongue against the Latina's swollen clit, eliciting a moan and another pull of your hair._

_You grinned into Daddy's swollen skin as you felt her inner walls contract around your fingers, her clit twitching inside your mouth as she teetered on the edge of coming._

_"I'm-- I'm--" the Latina rasped out, throwing her head back in ecstasy. She bucked against the heat of your mouth, her hands tightening their grip on your head._

_"I-- I'm-- Y/N--"_

_"Shh," you cooed, rubbing soft, small circles on Daddy's inner hip, "Let it go."_

_"Y/N, Y/N--"_

"What the fuck are you doing?"

You woke with a start, a scream bubbling up in your throat as you sat bolt upright in bed. It took you a minute to realize what was going on, to notice the pounding in your chest, your fingers between your thighs, Daddy standing right there--

"What's the matter? Daddy ain't taking care of your needs enough?" the Latina growled, climbing onto your bunk and pinning you down to the mattress in a single fluid motion.

You moaned into Daddy's mouth before tearing your lips away from hers, pushing her off of you and onto the bed.

"You made me come eight times last night," you whispered, your voice a low, honeyed rasp. "I think we're good."

"Since when did you like to play fair, Y/N?" Daddy drawled softly, her hands pulling at your shirt, tugging it over your head, tossing it to the side.

"Turning over a new leaf," was your hushed reply as your hands slid down the waistband of Daddy's pants.

"I like this new leaf," Daddy murmured into your mouth, a needy moan passing through her lips as your deft fingers found the throbbing heat between her legs.

Chuckling into the kiss, you swirled your thumb over the stiff bud of her clit, feeling her chest rise and fall underneath yours. Daddy grabbed you by the chin, forcing your lips against hers even harder before you could even think to break away.

"Fuck," the Latina moaned, giving your hair a sharp yank as your fingers probed and crooked and curled, searching for whatever she had to offer.

"Shut up," you hissed, your fingers moving in long, slow strokes that were just enough, just barely enough to keep Daddy teetering on the edge of coming.

You felt a sudden flash of pain in your shoulder, aching heat permeating underneath your skin as Daddy clawed at your back, her fingers raking down your flesh and leaving angry marks in their wake.

"I'm coming," Daddy moaned, her hips gyrating and bucking against your hand as you fucked her through her peak. She bit into your shoulder even more, muffling every desperate moan, every needy whimper, every plead and beg for you to fuck her harder.

Daddy finally pulled away from you after a few minutes, her cheeks flushed a bright, effervescent pink and her eyes shining like stars, or diamonds, or some stupid poetic bullshit like that. Her upper lip curled into a grin as she reached for your pants, her nimble fingers tugging the khaki fabric past your hips.

"No," you said firmly, shaking your head to prove your point. "Remember? I came eight times last night. I'm good for like, at least five days," you muttered, lightly patting the side of Daddy's cheek.

"Besides, you gotta put your tongue to rest for a while," you whispered, leaning forward to kiss the crown of Daddy's forehead.

"Oh, and--" you paused to give her a quick whiff. "Take a damn shower. You reek of pussy. More so than usual, as a matter of fact," you drawled, giving the Latina a light, playful shove.

Daddy sighed in mock defeat. "Okay, fine. I'll be right back," she said, hopping off the bunk before spinning around on her heel to face you.

"And you're right about the whole resting my tongue thing. I think I popped a vein or somethin'," Daddy said, pitifully wincing as she stuck out her tongue.

You chuckled, pulling Daddy close by the front of her shirt.

"We can still do this, though," you murmured, closing the distance between the two of you as your lips met.

"Good to know," Daddy whispered, smirking into the kiss as her thumb trailed the curve of your jawline.

Daddy walked out of the cell with her shower kit in hand, throwing up a casual peace sign as way of goodbye. You couldn't help but let out another chuckle, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of your lips--

"Come on, Y/L/N, you're late for visitation."

You flinched, getting up from your place on the bunk and turning around to the source of the demand.

A guard, bald-headed and dark-eyed, stood in the doorway to your cell. The white lettering on his shirt read 'G. Hellman', and the sneer his upper lip was curled in read 'fuckin' prick.'

You frowned. "You sure you got the right--"

"Now, inmate."

"Alright, alright, Jesus Christ…"

You got up from the bunk, walking out of your cell and towards the visitation room. Your heart beat in a steady yet painfully quick rhythm in your chest, adrenaline whooshing through you as the moments passed.

Shit, who was it, even? Your mother? One of your friends? Your one eyed redneck cousin you'd only met once who you may or may not actually be related to?

No.

No.

The blood pulsing through your veins turned to ice as you turned the corner into the visitation room.

Your father sat on the other side of the thick plexiglass, phone in hand, face still bruised and bloodied and horribly scarred from when--

You didn't make it another second before you started screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hereeeeeee we go! The following chapters are gonna be a huuuuuuge whirlwind.


	8. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no smut in this, but there's something a little better-- hurt/comfort and hugging!

Your screams scorched the walls of your throat as you raced out of the visitation room, running past Hellman, running past the other inmates, running, running, running all the way back to your cell.

The blood rushing through your ears, through your veins, deafened you and drowned out the noises of your fellow inmates, drowned out the screams clawing out from your lungs.

Half collapsing, half plopping down onto your mattress, you buried your head firmly between your knees as sobs tore past your lips. Your chest rose and fell with every sharp, pained breath you forced yourself to take, and the pit in your stomach grew deeper and deeper as the seconds passed with agonizing slowness.

Fuck. How could he be here? How did he get here? How was he able to…

Able to…

The smirk he had given you. That fuckin' revolting smirk, that look, that look that told you he knew what he'd done to you and he relished, he fucking relished being out and about and able to walk a free man while the world went on without your presence to guide it along.

That look told you everything you needed to know, confirmed all of your suspicions.

It told you he knew that he was supposed to be there instead.

It told you he didn't feel an ounce of guilt for what he had put you through since that horrible, horrible day in sixth grade.

Hands clutching at your hair and pulling hard, hard, harder, fingernails digging into your scalp and leaving crescent shaped marks that sting and ache.

Bruises and cuts dotting your flesh, fading from dark purple to yellow green, from scarlet red to coral pink.

Your heartbeat stopping then beating a painfully quick rhythm when you hear the door unlock, dread weighing down whatever was left of your soul as the inevitability of what he was going to do to you sank in.

Your hands falling listlessly by your sides, an emotionless gaze fixated on the ceiling as agony pooled hotly in the midst of your thighs.

Numbness.

"Y/N, what the fuck happened to you?"

Something guttural and raw and disgustingly vulnerable left your lips at the sound of your name. Your head jerked up from its place between your trembling knees, heat spreading throughout your chest until it burned.

Daddy stood in front of you, concern contorting her features as her hand reached up to your face. Her thumb caressed the side of your jaw as she muttered something you couldn't hear. Your heart skipped a beat, then two, then three as she got onto the bed with you, her knees digging into the mattress.

Shit. Shit, shit, she couldn't see you like this. All snot-nosed and terrified and unable to breathe, and far more vulnerable than you wanted her to see you.

"Hey, hey," Daddy cooed, wrapping her arms around your trembling frame. You shook even harder, strangled sobs still fighting past your lips at her touch. This was wrong, this was awful, it was far, far too early--

And, shit, you didn't know if you just wanted to grab her and bury your face in her chest, or if you wanted to run away, curl up into a ball, and do what you did best-- shut out the rest of the world.

"It's okay. It's okay, just breathe," Daddy whispered, her hands cupping either side of your chin as you gradually accepted her warm embrace, throwing your arms around her and sobbing into her shoulder. Your chest violently heaved with every choked breath you took, your throat raw and bloodied from your screams.

You were pretty damn lucky that Daddy wasn't too inquisitive about your life on the outside, come to think of it. Mostly kept her mouth shut, minded her own damn business, fucked the pain away whenever you needed it.

After all, there was no easy way to tell someone you'd tried to kill your father in retaliation for taking your childhood away.

Daddy kept one hand on the small of your back, one hand stroking your hair with all the gentleness in the word. She rested her chin against the crook of your neck as you pulled her even closer, a silent plea for her not to go.

Tears rolled down the apples of your cheeks and formed dark blotches on the khaki of Daddy's shirt. Your breathing gradually slowed to shuddering exhales every so often, your heart no longer beating an erratic, unsteady rhythm in your chest.

Daddy slowly pulled away from you, tilting her head to the side as she furrowed her brow.

"You good, girl?" the Latina drawled, running a warm, calloused hand through your hair.

You closed your eyes at the soothing feeling before briskly nodding your head.

The corners of Daddy's lips tightened in an awkward grimace. She spared a glance behind her, craning her neck to see if anyone was standing by your cell.

The Latina turned back to you, her brow furrowed even deeper as her hands clamped down on your shoulders.

"Now, tell me what happened," Daddy demanded, her normally languid brown eyes now full of intent and anger and-- shit, even fear as her fingers dug into your flesh.

You looked away with red-rimmed, teary eyes, words bubbling up in your throat but refusing to leave. Fuck, how'd you even get yourself in this mess in the first place?

"Y/N," Daddy whispered, "Please."

You looked up again, the inevitability of the situation starting to weigh on you. Daddy wasn't going to let you go without an answer, that was for certain, and you couldn't bring yourself to lie to her.

You didn't have a choice but to tell her.

"My father…" you began, every word you spoke weighing thick and heavy on your tongue like glue, every syllable feeling like knives rumbling around in your stomach.

You let out a deep, shuddering breath, balling your hands into fists.

_Keep going. Keep going. You can do this._

"He came to visit me today. And, uh…"

There it was again. That same all-consuming, deafening pounding of your heart that made your world stop, that locked you inside your own head until you went fucking crazy--

"The reason I'm in here is because I tried to kill him."

Daddy's eyes widened.

"And I tried to kill him because he raped me."

The words rolled off your tongue with ease so surprising that it terrified you--- terrified you that you could admit to something so horrible without a second thought.

And for only a moment, you were sixteen again, begging and pleading on your knees for your mother to believe you.

Daddy let out a deep, tremulous breath of her own as she loosened her grip on your shoulders, her hands sliding down the sides of your arms. Her chocolate brown eyes no longer shone with fear for you, but they held an emotion you couldn't pinpoint.

You pressed your lips together tightly, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. If you'd ruined this, if you'd ruined her, you would never fucking forgive yourself--

"I'm so sorry, Y/N."

Daddy's hand reached up to caress the side of your face again, her thumb continuing to gently stroke up and down your jawline. You forced your eyes open, your furrowed brow forming a crease in the midst of your forehead.

Tears spilled past the lids of Daddy's eyes and rolled down her cheeks, leaving trails of wetness in their wake. Before you could open your mouth to spew comforting, soothing words that didn't do much for either of you, Daddy threw her arms around your neck just as you had done to her.

Then, and only then, did you realize just how close you were to one another.

You could feel Daddy's heartbeat drumming in her chest, her body firmly pressed against yours as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. The comforting weight of her hands on your back anchored you down to the bed, keeping you from floating away into space and never coming back to yourself.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Daddy repeated, the sharp point of her chin digging painfully into your shoulder. You felt her vehemently shake her head against you.

"You didn't deserve that. Shit, no one deserves that."

Daddy abruptly pulled away from you, cupping your tear stained face in her hands again.

"No matter what you tell yourself, Y/N. You didn't deserve that," the Latina whispered, planting a soft, gentle kiss on your forehead. Her lips lingered a little longer than necessary until they drifted downwards, skating between your eyebrows, over your nose, until they met with your mouth.

The painful knot in your stomach loosened at the feel of Daddy's lips against yours, at the gentle yet urgent probing of her tongue. Heat pooled in between your legs at the Latina's touch, your hips bucking against her frame when her hands came to rest on your waist.

Daddy suddenly pulled away, her beautiful brown eyes red-rimmed from crying and her lips kiss-bruised from, well...kissing. She had that same concerned, loving look etched across her features that she reserved only for you, head tilted to the side and eyebrows arched with inquisitivity.

"Want me to stop?"

You drew your bottom lip back and forth between your lips, a silent shake of the head giving Daddy the answer she needed.

"Okay," Daddy whispered, a soft, gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

A smile that you returned when she took you back into her arms.

"I love you," you murmured into the curve of Daddy's neck, a fresh rush of tears welling up in your eyes as the moments passed.

"I love you too."

For the first time in three months, there wasn't a doubt in your mind that she meant that.


	9. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, y'all--
> 
> I've decided to try out writing this story in present tense! Hopefully, it turns out...not horribly. 
> 
> Also-- trigger warning for mentions of attempted murder and past r*pe.

_ "You know, Y/N…"  _

_ Your father waved a tremulous finger in the air. The unmistakable stench of alcohol radiated off his form, hanging thick in the air.  _

_ "I invited you over...'cause I wanted to talk to you," he drawled before crashing into a wall, a string of curses leaving his mouth.  _

_ You shuddered as your eyes met with his, fear brewing within the pit of your stomach. The knot in your chest tightened painfully, your heart racing alongside it.  _

_ "Hey, uh…" your father mumbled, fervently rubbing at his face with the palm of his hand. _

_ He paused for a moment, propping himself up on a nearby table.  _

_ "Why'd you say all that shit about me, Y/N? Why'd you get up on that little court stand thingy and say I fuckin' raped you, huh?" the man hissed, slurring every syllable and stumbling over every letter.  _

_ "Because you did, you piece of shit," you snarled in reply, your hands shaking uncontrollably in the pockets of your jeans.  _

_ Fuck. Why'd you even agree to see him again in the first place?  _

_ Your question was answered when you curled a fist around the handle of the knife in your pocket.  _

_ Your father shrugged nonchalantly, which only enraged you even more so. Fire replaced the blood racing through your veins, anger bubbling up in your chest.  _

_ Every fiber in your being was screaming at you to take the knife and jam it between his ribs, get it over with faster than you could blink.  _

_ You knew better, though. Oh, you knew so much better. You'd planned the whole thing out-- rile him up enough to do it again, then kill him, then skate off on self defense. You wouldn't have to spend a damn day in jail if you did everything well.  _

_ But, in this fucked-up soap opera you called your life, nothing ever went according to plan.  _

_ "Hey, listen, Y/N, I just wanna leave it all in the past and start anew. You know?" your father said, taking a hefty swig from the nearly empty bottle he was clutching.  _

_ He neared closer and closer to you, your heart beating so quickly that you could hardly feel it at all.  _

_ Your father tilted his head to the side. The all too familiar reek of gin and cigarettes wafted up your nostrils, making you flinch involuntarily.  _

_ "Come on," he whispered, his hand reaching up towards your face to brush away a lock of hair.  _

_ Your grip around the handle tightened.  _

_ "Let's just leave it all behind," your father whispered, his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth.  _

_ And that was when you couldn't take a second longer.  _

_ Your father staggered away, clutching his stomach as crimson began to blossom against the fabric of his shirt. Blood trickled out from his lips, smearing across his chin, dribbling down his throat and chest-- _

"Y/N!" 

You bolt up from underneath your blanket, head smacking against the bunk above you. You let out something between a scream and a strangled cry, your lungs burning from lack of air. 

"Yo, shut the fuck up or the guards are gonna put you in the SHU," Daddy hisses, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at her. Your heart pounds as tears blur your vision, threatening to spill out from your eyelids and darken the gray of your nightgown. 

"I'm sorry," you sob, hands trembling uncontrollably in your lap. Daddy shakes her head, opening her mouth to speak before you are silenced by a loud, booming voice just outside of your cell. 

"Everything okay in there?" 

You flinch again, eyes wide with terror at the sudden noise. 

A C.O with scraggly red hair and round cheeks (what was her name? Paprika? Nutmeg?) stands outside of your cell, shining her flashlight through the glass pane of the door. 

"Yeah, yeah, we're good," Daddy calls in response, holding up a hand before turning back to you. 

"Baby, chill," Daddy hisses again, hands firmly planted on either side of your face. You know it's an effort to keep you from floating away into yourself, and a feeble one at that. The Latina's grip on you tightens, her gaze dark with intent. 

"Chill, you're fine," she barks through clenched teeth, fingers digging into your chin and forming crescent moon shaped marks in their wake. 

"I  _ am  _ chill," you say in defense, decided non-chillness scraping the walls of your throat and making every word lay thick and heavy on your tongue. 

"Yeah, you're so  _ fucking  _ chill that you're gonna wake up the entire block," Daddy snarls, throwing you away from her and jumping up from the bed. 

The pit in your stomach grows painfully deep, nausea coiling tight in the hole where your heart should be. Fuck, this was embarrassing, this was worse than that…stupid three hour hugging session where you listed all your flaws and faults and sobbed uncontrollably and came apart in Daddy's arms. 

You force yourself to look at the Latina. 

Daddy's back is pressed against the wall, her arms firmly crossed in front of her chest. There's a dark, brooding look in her eyes that you haven't seen since that one time in the shower. 

It scares you. 

You shrug, a fresh rush of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Just forget about it, Dominga," you mutter, the name feeling like blood pooling on your tongue. 

You turn around, your back facing Daddy as you wait for a shiv in the ribs for calling her her real name. 

The shiv never comes. 

Instead, Daddy gets back on the bed with you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. 

You ignore the erratic beating of your heart as your fingers interlock with Daddy's. She plants a warm, wet kiss on the crook of your neck, mumbling something you can't hear against your skin. 

You can't help but sigh. You know it's the closest to an apology you'll ever get from her. 

"Wanna talk about it? The nightmare?" the Latina asks, her fingers tracing shapes and patterns against your open palm. 

"No," you mutter in response. Before Daddy can open her mouth to speak, to press even further for a response, you turn to face her and ask the one question that's been burning at the back of your mind for months.

"What did you do to get in here?" you say before you can think to bite back the words. 

Daddy winces as she runs her tongue over her bottom lip, drawing the flesh between her teeth. She's avoiding your gaze now, opting to stare at the wall instead of answering you. 

Guilty. Guilty as sin. 

You'd be angry if that wouldn't be hypocritical. 

"You already know, Y/N. Pimpin'." 

A scoff leaves your mouth.

"Girl, please, that's enough to land you in jail for a couple of nights. Not Max. C'mon, what'd you really do?" 

"Killed my whole family." 

"No, you didn't." 

"No, I didn't." 

"So, what'd you really do? Tell me." 

"Fuck,  _ mamí, _ I love it when you order me around like that." 

_ "Dominga."  _

The air is thick with silence for several more minutes. You nearly forget that you've asked Daddy a question in the first place until her voice cuts through the tension like a knife. 

"Accessory to murder." 

Your heart drops down to your stomach. You allow your mind to assume the worst, to explore all those horrible, terrible places you hadn't dared to set foot in until now. You let yourself think of what Daddy could have done, why she did it, and how, and you slowly begin to realize that the girl lying next to you in bed is nothing more than a stranger. 

Chills run up and down your spine. 

"I really don't know shit about you, huh?" you say. It's phrased as a question, but it's a question you already know the answer to. 

Daddy shakes her head. "I don't know shit about you, neither," she mutters, raking a hand through her disheveled mop of blonde curls. She shrugs, the corner of her bottom lip turned down in a pained grimace. 

"Guess not," you murmur, turning away from the Latina once again. 

It's not long before Daddy's hand reaches over and grabs yours. 

You moisten your bottom lip as your fingers slowly, tentatively lock with hers. It's a little scary, really, how easy it is for the both of you to brush it off, act like nothing's happened. A routine you've fallen into by now, not necessarily one you  _ like,  _ but--

Before you can stop yourself, you lean over one more time and kiss Daddy square on the mouth. 

She's surprised, you can tell. She doesn't kiss you back at first, she doesn't grab you by the chin and slide her tongue into your mouth. 

But when she  _ does,  _ it's  _ fucking amazing.  _

Daddy's tongue swirls around yours, her bottom lip brushing against your own. Her hands cup your chin then trail down your jaw, your collarbone, your waist. Her fingers are full of intent, of  _ need,  _ and as they rip off your nightgown, your heart skips a beat within your chest. 

You can feel yourself getting wet as the moments pass, and there's a sudden throb that pulses through your center when Daddy pins you against the mattress. 

There's a jolt of fear that shoots up your spine, a burst of nausea inside of you, and a single thought fluttering in the back of your mind-- 

_ Am I ready for this?  _

_ You can trust her,  _ you tell yourself.  _ She's your girlfriend. She won't hurt you,  _ you think as Daddy's hands lock around your thighs. It' _ s okay.  _

"Yo, you good?" 

Daddy's smooth, velvety voice snaps you out of your trance. She looks up at you between your legs with those big dark eyes, her brow furrowed with concern as her thumb rubs soft, slow circles on your hip. 

You slowly hod, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth and releasing it with a soft pop. 

"I'm okay," you murmur in response, a smile forcibly tugging at the kiss bruised corners of your mouth. The crease in Daddy's forehead grows even deeper despite the conviction in your voice, and before you can defend yourself, Daddy pulls away from you. 

"I said I was fine," you snarl, a biting edge to your voice that wasn't there before. It surprises you, just as much as it surprises Daddy judging by the expression of hurt spreading across her features.

Guilt burns a hole in your gut and coils tightly throughout your body. Shit, you didn't mean to snap, you tell yourself. You're just tired, it's not a big deal, and you're fine! You are totally, completely, and utterly fine, and  _ no you're not, who are you kidding, you are so fucking broken-- _

Tears spill out of your eyes and roll down your cheeks, hot trails of wetness that burn your skin in their wake. You feel shitty- shitty for snapping at Daddy, shitty for not being able to give her what she wants, shitty for  _ existing.  _

But, then again, all-consuming shittiness has been a permanent fixture in your life for years and years now. 

"Listen, if you ain't ready, that's chill," Daddy says, her hands raised in the air. A silent proclamation of innocence. If you listen closely, you can hear her heartbeat drumming a rapid rhythm within her chest. You wince. 

Daddy awkwardly holds her arms out, her features holding an emotion you can't read. She's obviously uncomfortable and uncertain of what to do, and there's still a smidge of hurt and fear in her eyes. 

And to be frank, you're not in much better shape.

You force yourself to breathe-- tremulous, uneven breaths that scrape the walls of your throat and make your lungs ache with effort. There's a vile, bitter taste pooling on your tongue, and a queasy feeling brewing inside your stomach that's become far too familiar to you over the months--

"I'mma just go back to my bunk," Daddy mumbles, moving off your bed in slow, stiff movements. Your heart sinks down to your stomach as the Latina climbs the ladder back up to her mattress, not bothering to say another word. 

The silence is deafening as you wipe away the last of your tears and cover your face with your pillow. 

For the first time in months, you feel truly alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. This hurt to write....


	10. Laundry Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your little sexcapade in the laundry room gets interrupted.

The prison seems colder than usual today. 

It's prison, of course. Not necessarily the most warm and fuzzy, welcoming environment in the first place.

But the dangers are far more apparent to you without Daddy by your side. 

You unconsciously tighten your grip on your laundry bag at the mere thought of her. 

She's been avoiding you for a couple days now, her eyes always averted from yours, nose always buried in a fashion magazine, hands always shoved in pockets. 

It stings. 

You aren't _ not  _ used to it by now, but that doesn't make it hurt less. 

The first thing you see (well, rather the first person you see) when you walk into the laundry room is  _ her.  _

Daddy seems a little too interested in the orange jumpsuit she's currently folding. Her shoulders are tensed up, her chin tucked into her chest. Her movements are slow and stiff and robotic, just like they were the other night.

You don't say anything to her. Your ego is far too large, and your need to keep your dignity is far too strong. 

And despite yourself, your stomach loops in knots and your heart skips a beat when Daddy calls your name. 

You don't take note of how panicked or hollow her voice sounds, and when you turn around, you immediately have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh. 

Daddy's lower half is sticking out of the dryer, legs waving around with wild abandon. She calls your name again, her voice rising at least another octave when you don't respond. 

"Did you leave? Bitch, did you  _ leave _ ?" she shrieks, her voice bouncing off the walls of the laundry room. 

You hiss and cover your ears. Jesus, she knows how to be loud when she wants to be…

"Y/N!" 

"No, no, I, I didn't leave," you stammer out, another laugh bubbling up in your chest. You swallow it down, walking over to Daddy's flailing lower half. 

"Here, hold still. I'll get you out," you murmur, cheeks burning a bright red from the effort of holding in your laughter. 

"Less talk, more getting me out of this fucking thing," Daddy demands, slamming her hand against the side of the dryer as you wrap your arms around her waist. 

"How did you even get stuck?" you murmur under your breath, laughter tinging the edges of your words.

"I'm short as fuck, that's how," the Latina grumbles, her hands gripping the sides of the dryer in order to steady herself.

"Yeah, that's for certain," is your snarky response. 

Daddy lets out a sarcastic chuckle. "Get me the fuck out of here," she hisses, venom coating her tongue with every word she spoke. 

"Shut up or I'll leave you in there," you growl, fingers digging into her hips. It's an empty threat, but you feel like being an asshole today, and who's going to stop you? Your prison wife who's stuck in a dryer? 

Daddy half-falls out of your grasp when you finally pull her out, muttering curses under her breath. Whether it's directed at you or the dryer, you don't know, but…

"Are you okay?" you say after a few more tension-filled moments of silence. 

Daddy gives you a half-hearted shrug in reply. 

You don't know what's worse-- the burn in your chest or the feeling of your heart sinking down to your knees.

_ She don't wanna talk? That's okay. Two can play at that game. _

But, she's the world champion of it, and you? You're only at level one. 

_ Oh, fuck it. What's she gonna do to me? Shank me?  _

"Listen, we can't keep on doing this shit," you say. You try your damndest to sound angry, to lace your words with menace, but all you hear when you listen to yourself is someone exhausted and broken and  _ so, so fucking tired of trying.  _

Daddy crosses her arms, leaning against the counter in the midst of the laundry room. She moistens her bottom lip, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. 

_ Something she only does when she's nervous. _

You've always thought it was kinda cute. 

But none of that matters now. 

"You can't just ignore me like that, Daddy," you say, so quietly that you're not even sure if you've said anything at all. 

Judging by the way Daddy's warm brown eyes flit up to meet yours, you definitely have. 

"I understand that it's scary," you continue, pushing past the lump of aching heat lodged in your throat. 

"I know it's scary when your girlfriend is hyperventilating in the middle of the night, and I know it's scary when you don't know how to make it better.

"But you can't just shut me out like that," you whisper, hot tears pushing past your eyelids and spilling down your cheeks. 

"I'll never ask you to be perfect, Daddy. Hell, I'm not perfect either. 

"But please, please don't shut me out again," you beg, holding your arms out in a desperate plea for… God, you didn't even know at this point. 

Daddy slowly walks over to you, arms still crossed in front of her chest. There's something hazy and gentle in her eyes, something you don't get to see too often. 

Your own eyes flutter shut as Daddy's lips softly press against yours. 

It's not an apology, necessarily, and it's not a promise either. 

But you know she loves you, and you know you love her. 

And maybe, just maybe, that's enough to get the both of you through. 

"Can we…" you murmur, your voice cut off by the heat of Daddy's mouth. You reluctantly pull away from her, and then, only then, do you realize that you're backed up against the counter. 

"Can we have sex? Please?" 

The words slide off your tongue before you can swallow them down. Your stomach clenches with uncertainty as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

_ Real smooth, Y/N. Real smooth.  _

Daddy's chuckle forces you out of your daze. 

"Like I'd ever say no to you," she murmurs, sinking down to her knees as you hop up on the counter. Her fingers hook underneath your khaki trousers and slowly, slowly pull them down. 

You let out a tremulous breath, your own fingers gripping the edge of the table hard enough to hurt. 

Daddy looks up at you from between your legs, her thumb moving in slow, soft circles on the cotton sheath of your underwear. 

"You good?" she says, eyebrows arched and lips slightly parted. 

You nod, your breath hitching as Daddy's thumb presses a little harder against you. 

"I'm ready. I promise," you whisper. 

You mean it this time. 

A smirk tugs at the corners of Daddy's mouth as she slides your underwear down your legs, your heart racing with anticipation. 

"We can stop if you want," Daddy whispers, hot breath fanning against your open thighs. 

You nod again. "I know-- ah,  _ ah…"  _

Needless to say, you don't get to finish your sentence. 

Daddy's tongue runs up and down your slick center, licking over the top of your clit as her hands grip your thighs. 

You close your eyes, tilting your head back as your fingers move from the counter to Daddy's head, tugging at her whitish-blonde locks. You moan softly as the Latina takes your stiff bud between her lips and pulls  _ hard _ , the familiar heat of her mouth making your hips buck. 

And you want to hold off, don't get you wrong-- you don't want to come yet.

But every expert stroke of Daddy's tongue is chipping away at whatever self control you have left. 

Daddy lets out a moan of her own as you tug on. her hair, pushing her closer as you teeter on the edge. She gently sucks on your clit, hands locked around your thighs as your hips buck even harder. You throw your head back in ecstasy, eyes fluttering shut as you're pushed over into orgasm. 

"Ah, fuck, fuck, I'm coming, I'm coming," you gasp, thighs shaking uncontrollably as your heart pounds a quick rhythm in your chest. Daddy's hands tighten their grip on you as you ride out the last of your orgasm, making sure you're not going anywhere anytime soon. 

Unfortunately, all good things have to come to an end. 

And those ends sometimes include a particular loud-mouthed, vulgar redhead that has a knack for appearing at the worst times possible. 

"Hey, Y/L/N--  _ ohholysweetjesusmotheroffuck _ \--" 

You scream, pushing Daddy's head away and covering your lower half in one fluid movement. Daddy wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and lets out a scream of her own as she realizes what's happening, that of all people,  _ Nicky fucking Nichols  _ just caught you having sex. 

"Jesus, Father. At least invite me to join in next time, huh?" Nichols says, her upper lip curled into a suggestive grin. When that doesn't elicit a reaction, the ginger lets out a loud sigh of defeat. 

"Alright, alright, wrong crowd," Nichols murmurs, holding up both her hands in surrender. She walks over to one of the washers, resting her head against the glass pane. 

"Anyway, Y/L/N, a little birdie told me that Barb wants to see you," the redhead drawls, her New York accent elongating every word. 

You furrow your brow. "Right now?"  _ Stupid question.  _

Nichols shakes her head. "No, she told you to take your time. No rush. Come see her tomorrow, even." 

You quirk an eyebrow. 

"Of course right now. C'mon, wouldn't wanna get shanked by one of the Barbettes," Nichols says, jokingly holding out her arm for you to grab. 

A loud sigh passes through your lips as you grab your pants and underwear from off the floor, sliding them back on. There's a sick feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach and a painful burn in your chest, and both of those feelings seem like they'll be there for a while. 

Daddy rises up from the floor. "She ask for me, too?" 

Nichols shakes her head again. "Nope. Just your gal pal here," she replies, jabbing a thumb in your direction. 

You shoot one last look at Daddy as Nichols walks you out the door, and what you see sends another bolt of lightning to your gut. 

Daddy is completely and utterly  _ fucking terrified.  _

And that means you should be as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oOoOoOOoOoOh! Something spooky-scary to fit the Halloween mood. Sit tight for chapter 13!


	11. Barb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter yet! But, I promise the next one will make up for it.

"Well, hi there, Miz Y/N." 

You've been standing in the doorway of Barb's cell for what feels like hours but has really only been a few seconds. 

"Hello," you murmur in response, offering a silent prayer up above that you'll get through this without a shiv in the ribs.

"Alright! Barb, Y/L/N, I'll leave you to it," Nichols says, giving the two of you an extravagant bow before walking off. 

The moment the ginger leaves, you swear that the room has gone ice cold. 

"Well, don't be a stranger, come on in!" 

Barb's voice is cheery and upbeat, and there's a raspy drawl laced through her words as well. Her smile is full of scraggly yellow teeth and a sandpaper tongue and her eyes are soulless pools of black. 

She's kinda hot. 

Okay, not really, but humor is your coping mechanism. Sue you. 

You walk over, careful not to seem nervous and careful not to seem overly confident.  _ One wrong move and she'll gut you like a goddamn fish.  _

You sit on the mattress next to Barb, hands folded in your lap and back straight as a board. She notices this with narrow eyes and calloused hands pressing down on your shoulders. 

"Hey, relax, it's okay! We're all friends here," the older woman drawls, the heat of her touch burning your skin through layers of cotton. 

You force yourself to smile. You force yourself to forget what she was, if only for a few minutes. 

"Listen, I'd like to apologize to you, missy. I know we didn't get off on the best foot. What, with me walking in on you and your little girlfriend," Barb says, punching you in the shoulder a little too hard to be playful. 

Nausea bubbles up in your stomach, blistering hot and painful. 

"You must have been mortified. Oh, I know Daddy-O was. Poor thing couldn't look me in the eye for a good three days," the older woman laughs, hand in a death grip on your shoulder. 

_ Please stop talking and get to the point,  _ you think to yourself, heart pounding in the hollowness of your chest. 

"You love her, dontcha?" 

Your chest stings with shock as Barb gently takes your chin between her thumb and forefinger. 

It doesn't take much to realize who the brunette is referring to. 

You stiffly nod. 

Barb grabs your chin a little harder this time, a twisted grin contorting her features. 

"Oh, young  _ love _ !" she says, her voice echoing off the walls of the cell. The brunette clasps her hands together, and you are silently grateful for the short relief it gives your shoulder. 

"And believe me, honey, I  _ really  _ appreciate the fact that you're making my Daddy-O so happy. Really, I do," Barb continues, her tone light and airy as she waltzes around the cell. Then, and only then, do you notice the faded red scar on her cheek.

You're snapped out of your daze by fingers tightly locking around your arm. 

"What I don't like is how her head's been in the fuckin' clouds ever since you walked your tight ass through that door." 

Ice slides into your gut. 

"Either you start bringing product in too, or…" 

There it is. That same sadistic grin that she sported just moments ago, unnatural, cartoonish,  _ sickening-- _

"Or you stay the fuck away from her." 

Your blood curdles in your veins at every word that drips with malice. 

Barb's nails dig into your flesh, threatening to draw blood. 

You nod, ignoring the bile coating the walls of your throat. It is all you can do. 

Barb lets go of your arm when she feels she's sufficiently threatened you into submission. She gives you an emotionless smile coupled with empty eyes, and a low, raspy "Good," leaving her lips. 

You make it back to the laundry room eventually. You're not sure why, or how, or if you'd ever left at all in the first place.

Daddy's eyes meet with yours the moment you walk in. They're not red rimmed or tear filled, nor are they angry or hateful. 

They're just as full of fear as they were the moment you left. 

With a deep shuddering breath, you take Daddy in your arms and rest your chin on her head. 

_ Fuck.  _ What are you going to do?


	12. Patience is a Virtue

"You know I never meant to drag you into this, right?" 

Daddy's kneeling at the edge of the bed, head tilted to the side and brown eyes full of an emotion you can't pinpoint. 

You nod, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. 

It's not like you don't want to believe her. All you want to do is brush it all off, accept her word with a loving look and a bright grin and act like everything's okay. 

But you just can't. 

"Y/N." 

Daddy's voice is soft and velvety smooth as she reaches up to your face and cups your cheek. 

"I never meant for any of this to happen, baby. I told Barb to leave you out of the business," the Latina says, her thumb gently stroking your jawline. 

It's almost enough for you to believe her. 

Almost. 

There's an uncomfortable, hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach and an even more hollow feeling within your chest. Your bones seem to ache underneath your skin, and every breath that rushes through your lungs feels like fire. 

Long story short, you're miserable. 

Of course, you know that Daddy is the drug lord of D-Block. Hell, half the girls depend on her for their jollies, their little spurts of happiness that get them through the day. 

But you didn't give any thought to how that would shape your image, your reputation. 

You didn't think that you'd signed up to be the prison bitch version of Emma Coronel Aispuro. 

(Was that even El Chapo's wife's name?)

"Shit, man," Daddy murmurs, running her hands through her disheveled blonde hair. She slowly gets up from her place beside the bed, strolling around the cell you shared. 

"Shit," she whispers again, her voice tremulous and thick. Jesus, was she about to cry? 

"Oh my God, Daddy, enough with the guilt tripping," you groan, rolling your eyes as you collapsed against the mattress. Days like this, times like this, your empathy meter is unbelievably low. 

"I ain't guilt tripping you," Daddy says incredulously, her brow furrowed and her eyes narrow. She looks like you've accused her of doing something horrible, and in a way, you have. 

"But you don't know Barb like that. I do, Y/N, believe me, and I know she'll fuckin' kill us both. You know how much sleep I've gotten since I came here? None," Daddy snarls, jabbing her finger at you as her features darken with anger. 

You can't help but flinch at the venom coating her tongue. 

"What am I gonna do, Y/N? What are you gonna do?" Daddy says, her shoulders sinking lower than they ever have before. You've never seen her look more exhausted, and the sight makes the knot in your chest tighten even harder. 

It's a question you need to answer. 

But a question you don't know how to. 

You sigh. Looks like you'll be having a sleepless night as well. 

"She said I was lackin', right?" Daddy says, propping herself up against the wall. She runs her tongue over her bottom lip, warm brown eyes now burning with intent. 

"Well, she didn't use that exact vernacular, but yeah, pretty much," you say with a shrug, picking at the calloused skin surrounding your fingernails. 

Daddy furrows her brow, tilting her head to the side as she juts her bottom lip out.

"Said you weren't bringing in as much as you used to since I walked my tight ass through that door," you deadpan, resting your head against the wall and clasping your hands in front of your chest. 

It's a little scary to you, really, how level headed you are right now. The queasy feeling in your stomach has ceded along with the burn in your chest, and the panic that engulfed you mere hours ago is gone.

Shit. Are you actually getting used to prison? The idea that at any moment, you could receive a shank to the side or be pulled off to a broom closet and never be heard from again?

Daddy's voice pulls you out from your thoughts. 

"To be fair," Daddy says, crossing her arms in front of her chest, "You do have a tight ass." 

And despite yourself, despite the situation at hand, you laugh. 

The knowing smirk playing across Daddy's lips stretches out into a full blown grin. She lets out a laugh of her own, incredulously shaking her head at her own antics. 

Just like that, you forget all about Barb threatening you, all about being angry with Daddy.

You're allowed to just be, even if it's only for a few moments. Even if you're in prison, even if a psychopathic senior citizen is after you, even if there's no certainty in your future with Daddy. 

Here with Daddy, in your 4×8 cell, you can shut out the rest of the world and pretend everything is alright. 

It's like putting a bandaid on a bullet wound, but like, a gay bandaid. A really, really gay bandaid. 

"You're okay lookin', I guess," you murmur under your breath, knowing you'll get a smack upside the head for it. 

"What's wrong? You don't like these titties?" Daddy drawls, knitting her brow as she grabs her chest through her uniform. Another hearty laugh passes through your lips as she purses her mouth, giving her an odd resemblance to a duck or something equally strange. 

"You're the worst," you say, cheeks aching from your smiles. You toss a pillow at the Latina, laughing even harder when it just barely misses her. She lets out a strangled cackle before stumbling over to you, collapsing on the bed and narrowly avoiding slamming into the bunk above you. 

The two of you stay like that for a good ten minutes, unable to look at one another without bursting into peels of laughter. You're red as a tomato now, clutching your stomach as your lungs burn with the effort from your laughs. 

Daddy's equally hysterical, clapping her hands together without any rhythm as her laughter comes out in wheezes and cackles. You lose it all over again when she lets out a noise that sounds like a cross between a mating call and a broken trumpet.

You double over, nearly falling onto the floor in your hysteria. Your shrill screams of laughter bounce off the walls of the cell, and you know you'll get a shot for being so loud, but frankly, you don't give a shit--

"Y/N? Y/N, come on," Daddy says, her laughter long since having quieted down to soft chuckles. She grabs your shoulder, hauling you back up to the bed. You eventually shut up as well, smothering the last of your giggles with a hand over your mouth. 

"Lights out is in a few minutes, we better get changed," Daddy says, getting up from her seat on the bed. 

You murmur your acknowledgment before your eyes widen with realization.

Changed. 

"Get changed, you say?"

Daddy rolls her eyes. "You've seen me before, Y/N, you don't gotta make a big deal out of it." 

"So that means I can't ogle my own girlfriend?" you protest, pressing your foot against her back. Daddy swats your hand away, muttering something about you being a 'stupid ass bitch.' 

"That's my name, don't wear it out!" 

Daddy lets out a chuckle at your joking, her fingers grabbing the khaki shirt of her uniform and pulling it off. 

"Oh, uh…" 

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth, gaze slowly drifting over Daddy. 

Her cotton undershirt is next, falling to the floor with a quiet 'thump.' Your breath catches in your throat when she undoes the clasp of her bra, making a point of turning her back to you. 

Daddy shoots you a quick glance over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Your heart beats a steady rhythm as the heat between your legs grows wetter and wetter until you can't stand it anymore--

"Like what you see?" 

"Uh-huh," you respond without a second thought, your thighs rubbing up against one another in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure inside of you. 

Daddy notices your squirming and hears your not-so-quiet whines, her warm brown eyes narrowing to mere slits. 

"Be patient," she says mildly, her voice cutting through your whining like a knife. 

Needless to say, that doesn't help with the throb between your thighs. 

Daddy climbs up the ladder to her bunk, ignoring the empty space next to you and your outstretched arms. You frown, a crease forming in the midst of your brow. 

"What's the matter? You don't love me anymore?" you say in protest. 

A quiet, snarky chuckle is the only response you receive. 

You roll over and bury your face in a pillow. God, maybe you should go straight after all…

× × × 

The first thing you feel when you wake up is someone on top of you. 

The second thing you feel is a hand shoved down the front of your underwear. 

Your eyes shoot open as your hips start to buck. A moan begins to bubble up in your throat, but it's silenced by a warm mouth pressing against your own. 

So this is what she meant by being patient, you think to yourself as you wrap your shaking legs around Daddy's torso. 

Daddy slides her tongue in your mouth as her thumb presses almost painfully hard against your swollen clit, her fingers thrusting inside of you with enough speed to make your head spin. 

She's clearly not in a gentle mood today, you think to yourself as your inner walls pulse around her digits. 

Your clit throbs under Daddy's thumb as her lips drift down to your neck, licking and biting at the flesh there. A strangled moan leaves your throat, but it's silenced just as quickly when Daddy clamps her free hand over your mouth. 

"Shh, baby," she whispers, her fingers curling against your front wall. Your hips buck against her frame again as your fingers slide down her back, reaching for the elastic of her underwear. 

"No, not yet," Daddy murmurs against the crook of your neck, softly running her tongue over your collarbone. 

Your core clenches then unclenches around Daddy's skillful fingers as you teeter on the edge of coming. You know you're close, so close it almost hurts--

And with a few more urgent thrusts, you come all over Daddy's hand. 

You clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle your moans and pleads, biting down on the flesh of your palm. Daddy softly moans against your skin when your hips buck against her frame, riding out the last of your orgasm. 

When it's finally over, Daddy slowly gets off of you, that same cocky smirk still playing across her lips. You can't help but give the Latina a smirk of your own, your fingers sliding down her torso to take off her nightgown. 

"Quid pro quo," you whisper. 

"Ah, ah, ah," Daddy murmurs in response, briefly taking your hands in her own before pushing them away. 

Your smirk turns into a pout as you furrow your brow in protest. "But…" 

Daddy holds up a finger to silence you. "I said to be patient," she says, giving you a glare that does nothing to help the throb between your legs.

You run your tongue over your bottom lip as Daddy climbs the ladder back up to her bunk, feeling oddly unsatisfied despite the wetness decorating your thighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! It's your gal. I know this chapter seemed relatively uneventful, but believe me-- the next chapter will be anything but. 
> 
> Wink wink.
> 
> Bye!


	13. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya there! It's ya gal again. 
> 
> Quick warning---
> 
> This chapter contains pretty graphic descriptions of past r*pe, so if that is triggering for you in any way, please do not read this particular chapter. 
> 
> Also-- 
> 
> If you've read my writing, you'll know that I have a tendency to write about some, uh, really dark stuff to put it mildly. I'm making a conscious effort to tone it down and add some positivity and happiness as best I can.
> 
> Thank you for reading all of that! See y'all soon.

Dread. 

That's the only thing you feel as you turn the corner into the library. 

Daddy had passed by you during chow time, muttering something about 'meeting her in the library, we gotta talk about Barb.' The look on her face sent a chill down your spine and made fear pool in the bottom of your stomach. 

This was bad. Oh, sweet brown baby Jesus, this was bad. 

The first thing you see when you enter the library is Daddy leaning against a wall, arms crossed and chin jutted outwards. 

You saunter over to her, lower lip tucked between your teeth. Daddy opens her mouth to speak before you can, raising a finger to preemptively silence you. 

"Have you figured out a way to bring shit in yet?" she says, her voice clipped short and laced with anger. 

Your stomach tightens with nausea as you slowly shake your head 'no.' 

Daddy swears under her breath, slamming her hand against the wall. Somewhere in the distance, you hear Adeola kiss her teeth and mutter something about 'loud ass bitches ruining it for everybody.' 

"Sorry, Adeola," you call in response. Judging by what you've heard about her, the last thing you want is to be on her bad side. 

Coupled with the fact that she makes damn good hooch, of course. Can't forget about that damn hooch. 

"I don't even know where to start. Like, what do I even do? And what does Barb want me to bring in in the first place? And how do I get it? And how do I give it to her? And how much?" 

You ramble on and on before Daddy cuts you off. 

"You just gotta find a connect. Leave the rest to me and my girls," Daddy says in response, cool and unflinching. 

It's a little scary to you, really, to see how she operates. You've gotten used to the lovey-dovey Daddy, the Daddy who spoons you and kisses you when you ask for it, the Daddy that holds you close at night. 

You've forgotten about the other side of Daddy.

The Daddy who went down for accessory to murder, the Daddy who deals drugs and pimps bitches out, the Daddy who wouldn't think twice about holding a shiv to your throat, the Daddy who slammed your head against a shower wall and called you a cunt and left you in tears. 

You're not sure which one is the real her. 

And you don't think you want to know. 

Still, even when you're having an existential crisis, you know how to be jealous. 

You arch an eyebrow. "Your girls?" 

Daddy lets out something between a disapproving scoff and a sigh. 

"Come on, baby, I didn't mean it like that," the Latina drawls, taking your hands in her own warm grip. 

"They're like, my friends that do shit for me, you feel me?" 

Your features remain twisted in doubt.

"And?" you say. 

Daddy lets out another sigh, deeper than her initial one. 

"Friends that I may or may not have had...sexual relations with at one point in time." 

"And?" you prompt again. 

"Friends that I will never have sexual relations with again because I got me a dime piece right here."

A smirk plays across your lips. "You got that right." 

Daddy chuckles before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you against her, her hands circling around your torso. You cup her face with your hands and lean in to kiss her, pressing your mouth against hers. 

You pull away after nearly a minute, only to lean back in again, and pull away again. 

A hearty chuckle leaves your throat as Daddy mutters something about you being a tease, playfully swatting your ass when you walk even further into the library. 

"Speaking of a connect, by the way, my cousin's in the drug business. I can give him a call, and he'll probably do it," you explain, grabbing the Latina by the hand and leading her into an empty aisle. 

Daddy quirks an eyebrow. "Your cousin?" 

You nod. "Yeah, my cousin." 

A crease forms in the midst of Daddy's brow. 

"Your...cousin?" Daddy says, elongating every syllable. She's perplexed, confused, doubtful of what you're saying. 

And you think you know why. 

"Yeah, my cousin. We've always been close, ever since we were kids," you say, arms crossed and eyebrows knit together in concern. 

"Well, I mean, I just figured that your family would've cut you off after…" 

Daddy's voice trails off. 

_ After you tried to kill your father.  _

You sigh, a deep, shuddering breath you swear you can feel in your bones. 

"No, yeah, no. I mean, he was always the family scapegoat, if you know what I mean. No one ever really liked him, not even my grandparents," you say as you bark out a laugh. 

"And my mom divorced him when I was two, and I only lived with him on the weekends, until I was sixteen, which is, uh, when I told my mom, and, uh, that's when shit hit the fan, so he, he went to prison for like, five years, and he got out early for good behavior, which was total bullshit, and I didn't hear shit from him until…." 

You swallow, forcing venom laced words past the lump in your throat. 

"Until six months ago, when I tried to kill him," you murmur under your breath, your chest feeling oddly tight yet hollow at the same time. 

Daddy tilts her head to the side, tears moistening her warm brown eyes. 

The sight tugs at something deep in your gut, makes you feel uncomfortable and too big for your skin, too heavy for your feet to hold you on the ground. 

"Shit, I think someone's cuttin' onions out here," Daddy murmurs, quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. 

You stiffly nod. "Yeah, onions." 

Daddy lets out a dry, humorless chuckle of her own. She's avoiding your gaze now, lip drawn between her teeth and back half turned to you. 

"You know, it's okay to cry," you say before you can stop yourself, words feeling like ice on the tip of your tongue. 

Daddy stays silent. 

Tears pinprick at the corners of your eyes. 

"I know I do." 

You take a cautious step forward. 

"I cry about it all the time." 

Another step forward. 

"In the shower." 

Daddy swallows. 

"Chow time," you continue, ignoring the tremble of your hands by your sides. 

"When I'm alone at night." 

"And I cried about it on the outside, too," you say, a sad, choked laugh leaving your throat. 

"Can't tell you how many times I've buried my face in my pillow and sobbed until the tears wouldn't come anymore. Can't tell you how many times I've broken down in public, or how many days I've been unable to get out of bed because it was just too much. 

"But I can tell you that shutting it all out doesn't do shit. Trying to numb yourself, and putting all your morals and thoughts and feelings in a tiny little box and locking it doesn't do shit either." 

A sad smile plays across your mouth as you hold out your arms, inching closer and closer to Daddy. 

"So, y'know. It's okay to cry. That's...just what I'm telling you," you whisper, your voice choked and thick with emotion, that same sour, bitter taste coating the sandpaper of your tongue. 

"Because I don't want you to hold it all in, Daddy. That's what I tried to do for years, and it never ever worked for me." 

You're crying now, and you're making no attempt to hide it, or to stop it, and you don't think you could even if you wanted to. 

"Shit, man…" 

Daddy's rubbing away at her tears with the back of her wrist, her breaths tremulous and uneven as they skate past her lips. 

She stays silent for another good minute before almost collapsing into you. 

"Fuck," you tearfully murmur into her shock of bleach blonde hair, your arms wrapping around her instinctively. Daddy's shoulders shake with sobs as she buries her head in your chest, fingers clutching the back of your uniform, forcing you closer. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N," the Latina whispers, so quietly that you can barely hear her. 

Your only response is to hug her even closer and let a fresh rush of tears roll down your cheeks. 

"I don't want to think about you like that, Y/N," Daddy says when she pulls away from you, her hands gently cupping either side of your face. 

And despite the burning hollowness in your chest and the seemingly bottomless pit in your stomach, your heart skips a beat at her touch. 

"I mean, shit, you were only  _ eleven,  _ baby," Daddy says incredulously, a scoff of disbelief passing through her lips. You look away, an emotion you can't recognize burning in your lower belly. 

"You were  _ eleven _ ," Daddy repeats, harsher this time, more full of intent. You can't help but flinch as the words burn into your skin. 

You shake your head, staring down at the floor that's covered with stains of who-knows-what. 

"It wasn't your fault," Daddy says, and despite the calm tone of her voice, her words still make your skin crawl with every painfully true syllable. 

You're not sure why you're so intent on blaming yourself, why you want so badly to believe that you had done something to deserve-- 

“It wasn’t your  _ fucking  _ fault, Y/N,” Daddy says again, anger laced throughout every word. She gets uncomfortably close to you, brown eyes burning into whatever is left of your soul. 

Instinctively, you cringe, burrowing back into yourself when Daddy grabs your arm. 

“You didn’t do  _ shit  _ for him to do that to you, you understand?” Daddy snarls, and oh, it’s getting  _ so  _ hard to breathe-- 

There must be something in your eyes that tells Daddy to stop, because she immediately backs away from you and holds her hands up in surrender. 

You sink down to your knees, head pounding from the effort of your sobs. God, this is bad, this is  _ horrible-- _

"Baby, I'm sorry," Daddy coos, sitting cross legged next to you on the floor. She takes you in her arms again, chin resting on the top of your head. 

"I'm sorry," the Latina coos again, pulling you even closer as she kisses the crown of your forehead. 

You don't know how long you stay like that, coming apart in Daddy's arms as she desperately tries to put together the broken pieces of you. 

But you know now, you've come to realize, that you are not going to be okay anytime soon. 


	14. You Good?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long. Enjoy the new chapter!

"Hey, uh, Will, I need you to do somethin' for me," you say, your hand in a death grip around the phone. 

"Uh...Y/N?" 

You roll your eyes. 

"Yes, dumbass, who else do you know that's in prison?" 

You hear your cousin scoff through the phone. 

"A lot of people, Y/N. Like, a lot. But that's not important. What do you need?" 

Ah, same old Will. Likes to get straight to the point. 

"I need you to, uh…" 

You briefly turn around to ensure there's no one listening, no watchful eyes or ears eager to listen. 

"I need you to smuggle in drugs. Into the prison, I mean," you murmur, hand covering your mouth as you whisper into the phone. 

Will clicks his tongue on the other end of the line. 

"Really, Y/N? You're back on that mess?" 

"No," you hiss into the phone, veins straining against your skin as you grip it just a little tighter. 

"It's not for me, it's for someone else," you growl, anger bubbling up in your chest, hot enough to burn you from the inside out. 

"Ooh, someone's got a girlfriend," Will drawls, and you can practically see him doing his stupid little 'you-know-I'm-right' dance. 

"Yes, yes, yes, and someone else certainly doesn't," you retort, resisting the urge to slam the phone into the wall. 

"Ouch. You ain't gotta get personal. But, apart from our respective love lives--" 

"Like you even have one," you say. 

"Okay, well, Camilla said she's gonna leave her boyfriend for me any day now--" 

"Camilla ain't gonna do shit, you pansy-ass hipster wannabe," you hiss, spitting fiery venom with every word. 

"Now let's get back to the point," you say, cutting off Will before he can even think to defend himself. 

"Are you gonna smuggle it in for me or not?" 

A sigh vibrates through the phone. 

"Yes, I'll smuggle it in for you. Now, what do you need?" 

You practically jump into the air with joy, letting out a loud whoop that gets you a lot more attention than you'd like. The stares of a hundred inmates (and a few guards) are completely fixated on you, eyes questioning, faces twisted into masks of agitation. 

You mouth an 'I'm sorry' at the general inmate population before returning back to the phone. 

"Sorry, Will. And, uh, heroin. And oxy. Actually, whatever you have to give. But mostly those two things," you answer. 

"Okay, Miz Genius. And how do you suppose I get those through?" 

"Come and visit me for once, first of all. You can dump it in the visitor's bathroom, and one of the girls will pick it up on her cleaning shift." 

"Ooh, ooh, ooh. One of the girls, you say? Are you a pimp or something?" 

Oh, William. Little did he know. 

"Well, no. She's just a friend." 

The 'friend' in question was a girl with a mop of dark curls and the saddest big brown eyes you'd ever seen on another person before. Her name was Dia, or Dana, or something like that, you weren't entirely sure. 

And, even though you'll never admit it, your heart breaks a little bit every time you see her. 

"Sounds doable." 

"What, smuggling in the stuff, or the girl?" 

"Shut up, weirdo. Anyway, when can I visit you next?" 

"Tomorrow," you reply. "12:00 PM." 

"Okay, that's good. They say the best time of day to smuggle in drugs to your inmate cousin is 12:00 PM. How convenient is that?" 

"Smartass," you murmur. 

"Oh, I love you too, dear cousin of mine." 

"Alright, 12:00 tomorrow?" 

"You betcha." 

"Uh-huh. See you then."

"Wait, wait, Y/N, don't hang up yet." 

You scoff into the phone. "What is it?" 

Silence. 

"Will, come on, what is i--" 

"If you ever wanna… talk about it…" 

It doesn't take much to figure out what Will is referring to. 

Or rather, who. 

"I'm here, okay? I'm on your side." 

You nod in acknowledgment before realizing Will can't see you. 

"Okay. Thanks, Will, I really needed to hear that." 

"Yeah, anytime. Bye, dude." 

"See you tomorrow, little Willy." 

"I told you not to call me that, you bi--" 

You hang up the phone. 

Daddy strolls up to you from one of the tables, arms crossed and brow furrowed with concern. 

"Did he say yes?" she asks, lowering her voice as she tilts her head to the side inquisitively. 

You grin. "Is the sky blue?" 

Daddy shrugs. "I don't know, I haven't seen it in a while," she deadpans. 

You sigh. "Neither have I. But!" 

You playfully punch the Latina on the shoulder. 

"What's more important is that he said yes," you say, your voice lowering to a whisper as well. You waggle your eyebrows suggestively, rolling your shoulders and hands back in forth in some sort of odd gesture. 

Daddy quirks an eyebrow and scoffs. "What's that?" 

"It's my happy dance," you say in defense. "Don't you have one?" 

"Well, I ain't nine years old, so no," Daddy sardonically retorts before grabbing you by the hand and leading you away. 

"Come on, let's go to our cell so I can give you a proper thank you," the Latina murmurs, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. 

"Oh, did you write me a thank you card? How sweet," you say, playfulness laced throughout every word. 

"Somethin' like that," Daddy drawls before shoving you into the room and shutting the door behind her. 

You arch an eyebrow with mock curiosity, knowing exactly what's to come next. "Oh? Like wha--" 

You're cut off by a warm mouth pressed against yours and a hand shoved down the front of your pants. 

"Like that," Daddy drawls, and you moan into her mouth when her fingers slip inside of you. 

It had been a couple days since the library incident, as you liked to call it, had happened. It was strange to think about now, how absolutely broken and terrified you were. The mere thought of yourself like that sends chills of discomfort up and down your spine and makes nausea pool in your lower belly.

You stiffen as Daddy's hand slides up your top, grabbing your breast through the cotton sheath of your bra. 

There's a nagging feeling in your chest to stop this, to take a step away and breathe before going any further. 

But you don't listen. 

You can't listen. 

Because your mouth won't move, and your body won't move, and you're frozen in place--

Daddy pulls away, brow furrowed with concern as her fingers slowly slide out of you with a wet pop. 

"You good?" she says, her other hand reaching up to caress the side of your face. 

You avoid her probing gaze, flinching when her fingertips dance across your jaw. Daddy frowns, slowly, gingerly moving away from you. 

"Shit, man," the Latina mutters, holding her hands up as if to surrender, to prove that she's innocent. 

You swallow the bile burning in the back of your throat. You need to say something, anything--

"Uh, I'm, I- I don't know," you answer, because you know Daddy will see right through you if you lie to her. 

A fervent shake of the head drives your point home. 

"I- I don't know," you say again. "I don't know if I'm okay or not." 

Daddy nods, tucking her lower lip between her teeth. Her deep brown eyes flit up to meet yours, and you can practically feel her heart sink.

The hollowness in your chest increases tenfold as Daddy slowly walks over to you and wraps her arms around your waist, resting her head against your chest. 

You stiffen for a second before returning her embrace, resting your cheek against the top of her head. She smells good, you think, like lavender soap and that lotion from commissary.

"I love you, baby," the Latina murmurs into your skin, her fingers curling against your back. 

"So, so much." 

"I love you too," you whisper against her forehead, letting out a final shuddering breath before pulling away. 

Daddy immediately pulls you back, letting out a tremulous breath that makes your bones ache underneath your skin. 

"I'm sorry, baby," the Latina whispers, thumbing small circles against the cotton of your shirt. A soft, sad smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when she separates from you. 

"You didn't deserve that," Daddy says, her arms clamping down on your shoulders. Her tone is cool and even, but there's a hint of anger laced through her words that feels like flames dancing across your skin. 

You avert your gaze, your gut tightening with unease. You don't want to have this conversation right now, you can't have this conversation right now. 

"Daddy, I--" 

"Baby, you didn't deserve that. You got it? You didn't deserve that," Daddy hisses, hands moving from your shoulders to your wrists and squeezing hard enough to hurt.

You shake your head, blood curdling in your veins at the anger in her voice. "Please stop," you whisper, tears threatening to spill past your eyelids and roll down your cheeks. 

Daddy reluctantly lets go of your hands with a deep, defeated sigh and a click of her tongue. She plops down on the bed, running a hand through her hair before letting out a tremulous breath. 

The two of you are silent for several more minutes before Daddy shatters the quiet. 

"What do I gotta do to make it better?" 

You look up. 

Daddy scoffs, furrowing her brow incredulously. "Shit, Y/N, how do I make you better?" 

You slowly shake your head, heat rushing towards the apples of your cheeks. 

"You can't, really. You can't make me better, Daddy. There's no magical cure," you say, taking a seat next to her on the bunk and taking her in your arms again. 

Daddy ignores your presence, opting to stare straight ahead into nothingness. 

You sigh. "And that isn't your fault. But it's not mine either, Daddy." 

Daddy turns to you, her brow furrowed incredulously. "I didn't say that," she spits out, her eyes laced with both anger and hurt. 

"I'd never say shit like that to you, Y/N," the Latina repeats, her hand gently moving up and down the side of your arm. Her features harden. 

"Never," she says again. 

"I know, I know," you say in defense, your heart skipping a beat within your chest. "But, really, there's nothing you can do to fix me. And I don't want you think you're doing something wrong, or that you did anything wrong in the first place." 

Daddy scoffs as she pushes you away, nearly jumping up from the bunk before she grabs you by the shoulders. 

Your heart drops down to your stomach as the Latina fixes you with a steely gaze. 

You open your mouth to speak. "Daddy, you've never hurt me--" 

"I've choked you." 

You furrow your brow. 

"I've pulled your hair." 

What the fuck is she doing?

"I've pinned you down to the mattress, and I've fucked you with a strap-on, and I've left bite marks and scratch marks on your body." 

She's saying I'm lying, isn't she? She is. 

"I've slammed your head against the shower wall, for Christ's sake, Y/N. I have hurt you, so don't give me that shit anymore." 

"Yeah, but, not like he did," you whisper. 

"You've never… ra--raped me. You've never done that. And I know you never will, because I love you." 

Daddy's eyes flit up to meet yours. 

"And I trust you, Daddy. More than I've ever trusted anyone before. And, yeah, no, the whole slamming my head against the shower wall thing was fucked up, but you apologized, and you haven't done shit like that since. So, y'know. We're all good." 

Daddy stares in silence. 

"And I kinda like it when you pull my hair." 

That elicits a ghost of a smile and a small chuckle. 

"So…" you say, holding out a hand, "Are we good?"

Daddy sighs, her tongue probing the inside of her cheek.

"If you're good, I'm good," she says in response, plopping next to you on the bed again. Her hand comes to rest on your thigh, a warm, comforting presence that you so desperately need right now. 

You feel a jolt of adrenaline running up your spine, and before you can steer yourself towards logic, you slip a hand down the front of Daddy's pants. 

"Woah, woah," Daddy says before your fingers can slip inside her, catching your wrist with her hand. 

"You don't have to do that, Y/N," the Latina says, her tone wary and uneasy as she pulls your hand out of her pants. 

"I know," you say, "But I want to, because I love you." 

"Yeah, I can't blame you, but are you sure you even want to?" Daddy asks, a crease forming in the midst of her brow. 

"Daddy, I do," you repeat, your voice lowering to a gentle whisper. Your hand (the one that hasn't been in her pants, you're not that gross) caresses the side of her face, thumbing soft circles against her jawline. 

The Latina sighs, giving a shrug before she turns to face you.

"Baby, you know I can't say no to you," Daddy drawls, grabbing your hand and shoving it back into her pants. 

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth before you shove her down to the mattress, your lips pressing against hers before you find the heat between her thighs. 

"Oh, fuck…" 

You can't help but chuckle in self satisfaction when your thumb presses hard against her clit, bending your fingers inside of her. 

Your hand slides up Daddy's shirt and underneath her bra, rolling her nipple between your thumb and index finger. Her breath hitches as she grabs your wrist, pulling you deeper inside. 

"Oh, woah, woah!" you exclaim, suddenly falling forward against the mattress so your head is right next to Daddy's. 

It takes you a second to resume what you're doing. You thrust your fingers in and out of her, and her clit jumps underneath the pad of your thumb as you grab her breast underneath her shirt. 

It's hard to maintain your balance like this, you'll admit. A little awkward, too, but--

Daddy throws her head back in ecstasy as she moans, her grip on your wrist tightening even harder. You know she's close, you can just tell by the pulsing of her inner walls, and the throbbing of her clit underneath your thumb--

"Fuck!" she gasps, her back arching off the bed and her legs giving a sudden jolt. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Daddy moans, a little too loud for your liking.

"Shh," you whisper, leaning down so your breath wafts over her ear. Daddy lets out a choked off, guttural sound as your grip on her breast tightens, her hips bucking against your hand. 

You pull away from one another after almost a minute, Daddy's chest rising and falling with every strangled breath. You collapse against the mattress, a grin dragging itself across your face as Daddy props herself up on her arms. 

"Fuck, Y/N, that was good," the Latina says, running the hand that was locked around your wrist through her shock of blonde hair. 

You shrug. "I try," you say, playfulness laced through every word. 

"I can always appreciate a good effort," Daddy replies, reaching up to gently cup your face with her hands. 

She kisses you, soft and gentle and sweet. Her thumb strokes up and down your jawline, making your heart flutter within your chest. 

You smile into the kiss, throwing your arms around Daddy's shoulders and pulling her closer, hands sliding down her back. 

"You good?" Daddy murmurs, pulling away for the briefest of moments. 

"Uh-huh," you say, giving the Latina another gentle kiss. 

But truth be told, you're not that sure if you're okay at all.


	15. The Closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all!
> 
> If this sounds familiar, it's because this was originally chapter six of this story. I deleted it because I stopped liking the chapter, but I just gave it a rewrite, abd here we are! Some shameless smut to tide you over until the next chapter.

You'd always hated doing laundry.

You hated it even more so when it was in a prison laundromat.

A loud sigh escaped your lips as you slammed the washer shut. It was strange, really, living like this. Your life on the outside was far from sunshine and rainbows, but at least it was better than prison.

It felt like every moment you spent here was devoted to trying to get used to your new life. The new life that you would have for years to come, your new life that you knew you didn't deserve. 

"Ah. Are those pussy juice stains I see on your sheets, Y/L/N?" 

You rolled your eyes, looking up at your vulgar, unruly-haired companion with a sneer. 

"Shut up, Nichols," you snarled, baring your teeth at the snarky redhead for good measure. 

"Hey, no judgment. But I know what that looks like by now, believe me," Nicky said in that perpetually surly-toned, New York accented voice of hers. 

You rolled your eyes again before starting the washer, your elbows resting on top of the cluttered counter in the middle of the room.

Nicky didn't say anything more for a good, full minute-- the most peaceful minute of your entire life. 

And, Nicky being Nicky, the ginger simply  _ had  _ to open her big, fat mouth again to disrupt the silence. 

"Father rockin' your world, Y/L/N?" Nicky said, the words rolling off her tongue easier than what was to your liking. 

You spun around on your heel to face the redhead, your eyes instantly darkening as you glared. 

"Father? What is that, some stupid joke, Nichols?" you said with a sneer, jutting out your chin defiantly. The bitch wanted to say something about Daddy, she'd have to say it to your face. 

"Well, you see now, I ain't called anyone 'Daddy' since I was nine years old, and I'm not planning on breaking that streak anytime soon, so I guess you're gonna have to deal with me calling your special friend 'Father' for a good, long while," Nicky said with a nonchalant, passive shrug. The redhead hopped onto the counter, sitting next to you as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

Your eye twitched. God, you'd love to smack that stupid smirk off that bitch's face. 

You quickly turned around before you could do anything worth regretting, your hands clenched into fists as you made your way to the supply closet. 

Your hand met with the cold steel of the doorknob, your heart racing as you slowly opened the door and slipped your way into the dark, enclosed space. 

Lips that were soft and warm yet desperate and urgent crashed into yours. You instantly knew who they belonged to, you didn't have to play guessing games or flick on that daggone light switch. 

They belonged to Daddy.

And you did too. 

"Nichols out there?" Daddy growled against your neck between kisses, her hand groping at your breasts through your shirt. 

"Yeah," you breathed, a soft moan leaving your mouth as the Latina shoved your back against the wall. 

Several bottles clattered down to the floor, the noise a backdrop to the sound of your heart pounding. 

Daddy grabbed your waist and spun you around, your hands landing on the wall in order to support yourself. The Latina snaked a hand into the front of your pants, softly stroking the heat between your thighs. 

You moaned again, your breath hitching as you teetered on the verge of ecstasy. God, you were already so  _ close, _ and Daddy had barely touched you in the first place. 

Daddy grabbed a fistful of your hair and moved it to the side so she could kiss at your neck. Your hips bucked against her expert fingers as her tongue and teeth explored your flesh.

"You know, she ain't so bad," the Latina growled in your ear, her fingers pinching and kneading your swollen clit. 

You threw your head back and groaned, your eyes dreary with ecstasy. "Who you talkin' 'bout?" you rasped, your breath hitching as you shuddered. 

"Nichols. She ain't that bad. Just don't know how to mind her own business," Daddy growled, her breasts pressing urgently against your back. 

You could feel her nipples rubbing against you, they were hard enough to cut glass even through her shirt. The Latina yanked your hair again, making your chin jut out towards the ceiling. 

"I can hear you, Father," Nicky called through the door of the broom closet, rapping on it with enough fervor to make you flinch. 

"You don't like it, then go," Daddy snarled through clenched teeth, giving your hair another sharp pull as your thighs began to shake. 

You heard Nicky scoff through the door. "Alright, alright. I'm leavin'. Ain't gotta make a big deal outta this, Father," the ginger grumbled. 

Relief pooled in your chest as you heard Nicky leave. Finally,  _ finally _ you could be as loud as you wanted without having to worry about her.

"Oh, please, please,  _ please  _ make me come," you gasped, riding Daddy's hand with as much vigor as you possibly could.

Daddy's unoccupied hand clamped over your parted lips, her long fingers slipping within the velvet heat of your mouth. 

"Shut up, Y/N," the Latina growled, her fingers gliding over your slick folds as your orgasm built up inside of you.

You groaned against Daddy's fingers, running your warm tongue over her fingertips. The aching heat between your legs grew stronger and stronger by the second, your hips bucking against Daddy's other hand. You knew you weren't going to last much longer like this, it was  _ impossible  _ to hold off for another minute. 

"You want me to let you come?" Daddy growled in your ear, planting open mouthed, aggressive kisses on the already bruised flesh of your neck. 

You feebly nodded, your clit throbbing at the Latina's touch. Your tongue enveloped the pads of her fingers, making a small moan escape Daddy's lips. 

"Then beg for it," Daddy demanded, removing her fingers from your mouth. Her hand slid down your back to the soft swell of your ass, roughly squeezing through the pants of your uniform. 

You groaned in both pleasure and pain, your lips moving in silence, words refusing to leave them.

"Please, please make me come, I need it, I need it so bad," you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as you raked your nails against the wall of the utility closet. You felt another rush of heat to your center, so good that it made you ache even more for that release just out of your grasp. 

"Hm, I don't know, baby. You haven't really convinced me," Daddy drawled, her pace over your clit becoming faster and faster. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, moans and whines involuntarily escaping your throat. Every word Daddy whispered against your skin was a lit match thrown into the fire burning in your lower belly. 

"Please, please, I need to come," you gasped, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes. Oh, God, you couldn't handle it anymore--

Daddy finally relented. Her fingers jammed into your core, her thumb rapidly circling your clit as you let out a throaty, strangled whine. 

"You can come, baby. Come all over my fingers," Daddy whispered, her hot breath tickling your neck as she grabbed your chin, turning your face towards hers. She slammed her lips against yours to silence you, swallowing each of your moans as you teetered on the edge of ecstasy. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, you came hard against your lover's talented fingers, your core soaked and your heart racing. 

When it was all over, you let out a deep, cleansing breath, moistening your bottom lip as you bent down to tug your pants up to your waist. The awkwardness hung thick in the air. 

"Ah, ah, ah," Daddy said, her hand lightly slapping your ass. 

You turned around, confused and mildly annoyed. The fuck did she mean, 'ah, ah, ah,'? 

"I'm not done with you yet," the Latina said, rubbing small, gentle circles onto your skin.

You took in a sharp breath, pressing your hands against the wall again. Your heart raced in anticipation as you wondered what Daddy would do to you next. 

You licked your lips, a jolt going straight to your center as endless possibilities flooded your mind.

"I want to  _ fuck _ you, Y/N," Daddy growled, her hand firmly placed against your back as her fingers found their way inside of you again. You moaned, your walls pulsing around her before she spun you around again and sank to her knees. 

Your hand shot to the back of her head as Daddy started sucking on your clit, drawing the stiff bud back and forth between her lips. 

"Daddy, Daddy, please," you begged, your hips bucking against her chin. Daddy's grip on your hips tightened with every word that rolled off your tongue until you could barely move at all. 

"Shut up," Daddy growled, sucking hard on your folds as her nails raked against your skin. You whined and grabbed the back of her head, your thighs shaking uncontrollably. 

"Shut the fuck up," the Latina growled again, her eyes full of something dark and hungry as her tongue ground hard against your clit. 

And before you knew it, you were coming again, one hand clamped over your mouth to prevent anyone from hearing you. 

Daddy slowly stood up after giving your clit one last kiss, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She let out a small chuckle, pressing your bodies together again. 

The Latina quirked an eyebrow. "Where's my 'thank you', baby girl?" she drawled, getting close enough to kiss you, your lips nearly touching. 

You smirked again. Little did she know. 

"Thought that was for when we were done," you drawled, closing the distance between you two as your hand slipped down the front of Daddy's khakis. 

The Latina moaned into your mouth, her hands gripping either side of your waist. Her fingertips against your bare skin felt electric, like the blood that rushed through your veins, had been replaced with adrenaline. 

You shoved Daddy against the wall, tugging her pants and underwear down to her ankles in one fluid motion. 

"I'm not gonna let you fall, trust me," you said, your eyes briefly meeting with Daddy's as you tossed a leg over your shoulder.

You could feel your heart melting as the Latina cupped the side of your face, her thumb softly, soothingly running up and down your jawline. 

"I trust you, baby. I trust you," Daddy whispered, that small smile you loved so dearly playing across her kiss bruised lips. 

You gave the Latina a grin before diving into the middle of her thighs. 

Daddy's hips bucked against your face at the first ardent, insistent stroke of your agile tongue. She let out a groan, the sound going straight to your core. 

You ran your tongue up and down Daddy's center, relishing the sounds that she was so desperately trying to hold back. 

"You're a real fast learner, baby," Daddy rasped, her hand tangling with your hair as your tongue toyed with her throbbing clit. 

You grinned at the Latina's praise, her words only egging you on. 

You smiled into her center, satisfied at what she was doing because of you. When Daddy moaned out 'Fuck, baby, you're so good,' you could feel a fresh rush of wetness spilling onto your tongue, staining your lips and chin. 

Wanting to take in every inch of the beautiful girl, you looked up, only to see Daddy's head thrown back in ecstasy and her eyes squeezed shut. 

"Keep doing that," Daddy rasped, giving your hair a sharp yank of encouragement. You moaned in response, flicking the underside of her clit with your tongue. 

Your own clit throbbed as Daddy's hips started bucking against your chin again. She pulled your hair even harder, urging you to keep going. You knew she was close, you could just  _ tell-- _

"Fuck, baby, baby girl, I'm coming--" 

Okay, closer than you thought, apparently. 

Daddy let out a guttural moan, clamping her hand over her mouth as she ground against your tongue. You smiled into her core, your grip on her hips tightening even further as you let her ride out her orgasm. 

You pulled away from one another after a while (or rather, Daddy shoved you away), and you couldn't help but give the Latina another grin. 

Daddy smiled, a real, genuine smile that was reserved only for you. Your heart fluttered as your hand reached out for hers, a smile of your own playing across your lips. 

Your hand entwined with her hand, your eyes staring deep into hers. You didn't have to say anything, and neither did she. 

You were comfortable in the silence. You were comfortable living in this perfect moment, where everything was happy and good and beautiful.

You felt  _ safe.  _


	16. No Turning Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaast!! I'm back :)

You sit down in the chair, bringing the phone to your ear as you stare at Will through the glass pane separating you two. 

"How you doin' Y/N?" Will says, a crease forming in the midst of his forehead. 

"I'm doin'," you murmur, running a hand over your face. 

It's been a while since you've seen Will, you have to admit. A good two years, maybe even more. 

You've missed him, of course. Missed him so much, like there was a Will-shaped hole in your heart that no one else could ever fill. 

Pretty sad, really, that all it took for you to see Will again was you trying to kill your father, ending up in maximum security prison, and now having him attempt to smuggle in drugs for you and your lesbian lover. 

"Anyway, did you...put it there?" you say, sparing a glance behind you to ensure no one was listening. You were in the drug game now, and there was no such thing as being too careful. 

"Uh-huh. So, what do you wanna talk about now?" Will deadpans, leaning forward so his nose nearly touches the glass. 

You shrug. "I...I dunno. Life, I guess?" 

"Yeah, well, uh, no," Will snarls, jabbing his finger against the glass pane with enough force to make you flinch. 

"What the hell were you thinking, Y/N? Trying to kill your own father?" 

Your chest burns with embarrassment, or anger, you're not sure which. Maybe both. 

All you know is that it takes everything in you not to scream back, not to throw the phone at the glass separating the two of you in retaliation. 

"Do you even know what he did to me? How much he hurt me?" you say, and you swear you can feel and taste blood burning at the back of your throat. 

"Yeah, 'course I do, but that doesn't justify you trying to kill him. He's still your dad, Y/N." 

If you weren't so infuriated, you would be laughing right now. That pig? That animal? Your  _ father?  _

"He's not my father, Will, you idiot. A father doesn't… do that  _ shit  _ to his daughter," you snarl, setting your jaw as your eyes darken with rage. 

"Listen, I just risked getting thrown in there with you, so show some fucking gratitude," Will hisses in reply, his eyes dark and mouth twisted with rage. 

You scoff, leaning back in your chair. "You think they'd put you in a women's prison, stupid?" 

Will vehemently shakes his head. "You know what I mean." 

When you and Will were younger, you'd often run around in the yard, chucking footballs at each other and dusting each other off when either of you fell. Your mother or his mother would yell at the two of you for making such a mess, and you'd both be subjected to being hosed down with what must have been the strongest water pressure in the world. 

In other words, your childhood was perfect. 

Until, well… 

And now, here you were, spitting words of rage and venom behind the panel of glass separating you from one of the few people that ever loved you. 

"Listen, Y/N, I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life, and I'm not gonna tell you that you shouldn't have done certain things, 'cause I have a feeling you already know," Will carefully begins, closing his eyes and taking a deep, cleansing breath. 

He's afraid, you can tell. Of you. 

You resist the urge to scoff. Like you'd ever hurt him in the first place. 

"But trying to kill your own father? Really? What were you gonna do if you succeeded? Did you even think about that? Like, I, I, were you gonna go on the run? Were you gonna kill yourself afterwards?" 

You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue. There's some truth to what he's saying, of course. You didn't have a plan, other than stabby-stab and yeety-yeet, as the young kids say. 

But still, there's no pull of regret in your gut, or a heavy, sinking feeling in your chest. 

No, instead, there's a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

And it haunts you. 

"Y/N, come on. For serious." 

Will"s voice resonates through your mind and forces you back to reality. 

You shake your head, running a hand over your face again. 

"I- I don't know. I didn't have a plan, Will, I, I just wanted to kill him," you say, your voice barely above a choked off whisper. 

With that, Will's eyes soften and he presses a hand against the glass. 

"I know, Y/N. I mean, like, I don't know,  _ know _ , but…" 

Will's voice trails off, and he tucks his lower lip between his teeth for the briefest of moments. 

"Listen, Y/N, we're both hella tired right now," he mumbles, his eyes full of something soft and heavy and heartbreaking. 

A look you've worn all too often. 

"I'm gonna go home and get some rest, okay? And I think you should too, when you can," he says, his grip on the phone already beginning to loosen. 

You slowly nod, unspoken words laying thick on your tongue. You suspect he feels the same way. 

"I love you, okay?" Will whispers.

You give him another nod. "Love you too." 

And with that, you hang up the phone and walk away. 

"Did he do it?" Daddy says the moment you walk in, frantically pacing around the small cell the two of you share. 

"Yeah, he did," you murmur, plopping down on your bunk and hugging your pillow to your chest. It's an oddly childish gesture, but frankly, you don't really care how mature you seem at the moment. 

"Uh-huh, great. Now come and have an anxiety attack with your main bitch," Daddy pants, plopping down on the other end of the mattress and burying her head in her hands. 

You let out a groan. "But I don't wanna," you whine, tightening your grip around the pillow in your arms. 

"Why can't I be depressed instead?" you complain, staring up at the hyperventilating Latina with wide eyes. 

"Uh-uh, bitch, uh-huh, it's anxiety time. We ain't gon' be depressed, we gon' freak out, we gon' have anxiety about all this shit, and we not gon' stop until it gets to Barb," Daddy says, jumping up from her seat on the bed and rapidly clapping her hands together. 

" _ Vamo _ , bitch,  _ vamo _ ," she hisses, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you hard. 

"Yo, yo, stop it," you say, batting her away with a single hand. "Calm down." 

"The fuck you mean calm down? Calm down ain't in my vocabulary,  _ mamacita _ ," Daddy says, a sarcastic laugh tinging the edges of her words. 

"Yeah, well, it's in mine, so wake me up when Dia or Dana or whoever retrieves the shit," you mumble, closing your eyes and collapsing against the mattress. 

" _ Daya.  _ Her name is  _ Daya,  _ stupid. You get someone to collect drugs for you, you learn their fucking name," Daddy snarls before resuming her pacing, wringing her hands together and running them through her disheveled hair. 

And, just like that, the infamous Daya knocks on the doorway to your cell. 

"Yo, uh, I got the stuff," the younger woman says, reaching into the front of her trousers and pulling out a large plastic bag filled to the brim with what must be heroin and oxy. 

Daddy snatches the bag out of the younger Latina's hands, shoving it down her own trousers. 

"Yeah, okay, get outta here, Diaz. Why didn't you give it to Barb direct? She's the one who wants this shit in the first place," Daddy hisses. 

Daya sucks her teeth. "Oh, you got an attitude now? I think the words you lookin' for are 'thank you, you fine sexy bitch'," she retorts. 

"Daddy, come on, be nice," you say with a pout, coming up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder. 

"Sorry, Daya. It's that time of the month for her again," you explain, a grimace tugging at the side of your mouth. 

Daddy turns around, looking at you incredulously. "No, it's not," she says. 

Daya gives you a strange look before returning her gaze to Daddy. 

"So, you gonna give it to Barb? Or is she? Or what?" she asks. 

"I'll do it," you say without thinking, and you regret the words the moment they leave your mouth. 

"So I don't gotta be here anymore?" Daya says after a moment. 

"No, no, you're okay," you reply, and you have to resist the urge to reach out and tuck one of her dark curls behind her ear. 

Fuck. Are you becoming a prison mommy or some shit? 

Daya slowly, carefully nods, pressing her lips together in a thin, tight line. 

"Okay. Bye, you guys," she mutters, quickly walking out of the cell and into the common room. 

Before she does, however, she shoots you one last look with those big dark doe-eyes, one you can't mistake for anything but burgeoning infatuation. 

Oh. You're fucked. 

And you were just trying to be nice to her. 

"Did you see that shit? Looking at my girl like that in front of me?" Daddy complains, gesturing wildly at the younger Latina. She sucks her teeth, grabbing you by the arm and steering you towards Barb's cell. 

"Oh, come on. I can't help being fine. Besides, don't tell me you wouldn't get at her," you say in defense, playfully sticking your tongue out. 

"Just be careful around her. You're mine, baby, you're not hers," Daddy says, her grip on your arm slightly increasing as the seconds pass. 

"Oh, but you didn't deny it, did you?" 

Daddy furrows her brow. "Deny what? That I'd fuck her?" 

You nod. "I know you would. She's got the curves, and the eyes, and the opportunity to be corrupted. Oh, and she's got the ass, too."

"And I don't?" Daddy grumbles.

You smirk. "Shut up." 

You walk into Barb's cell with Daddy right by your side, and your heart instantly drops to the ground. 

Barb is curled up in a ball, sweaty and shaking and an overall mess. She's muttering curse words and names you don't recognize under your breath, and her eyes are squeezed shut with agony. 

She's in the throes of withdrawal, that's obvious to you. And as much as you want to, you can't look away from her and her pain. 

"Barb." 

Daddy speaks first, letting go of your arm and walking over to Barb's writhing form. 

"Look what I got you," the Latina says, taking out the drugs from her trousers and pouring a few pills onto her open palm. You recognize her tone immediately, it's the same one she uses when she's trying to calm you down in the throes of a panic attack. Your heart twists painfully. 

Barb doesn't speak, just grabs the pills and shovels them into her mouth and down her throat. 

You avert your eyes, staring at your feet instead of the scene unfolding in front of you. 

"You smuggle this shit in, little girl?" 

Barb points a crooked, yellow nailed finger at you, her mouth twisted into a sickening grin. 

You tuck your lower lip between your teeth. 

"Yes, ma'am," you whisper. 

"Guess you're more than a pretty face. Come on now, what you'd have to do for this shit? Suck a cock? Eat a pussy?" 

You can't help but flinch at the vulgarity rolling off Barb's tongue. The brunette lets out a too loud laugh at how uncomfortable she's made you before beckoning you over. 

"Come, come," she says, patting her lap with a still shaking hand.

You spare Daddy a glance. The Latina nods encouragingly, and you can only hope you can trust her this time. 

You sink down to your knees, looking up at the older brunette with wide, uncertain eyes. 

"Come on, baby, I don't bite," Barb says before looking up at Daddy. 

"Tell her I don't bite," the brunette demands. 

"She don't bite," Daddy says without missing a beat, the words seeming all too familiar for her. 

Your heart twists within your chest again as you gingerly lay your head in the brunette's lap, and  _ holy fuck  _ does she reek. 

"You're one of the good ones, Y/N honey," Barb coos, running her fingers through your hair. You can't decide if the touch sickens or comforts you, and you're not sure you even want to know. 

Daddy stays silent besides you, unmoving. 

"You can go now, Daddy-O," Barb says, her fingers continuing to run through your hair. 

Daddy obliges, getting up from her place on the floor and walking out of the cell. 

Your stomach burns with unease as the seconds pass, the possibilities of what Barb will do to you run through your mind. 

"Relax, Y/N," Barb murmurs, almost as if she knows exactly what you're thinking. 

And you have no choice but to fall asleep in the brunette's lap. You have no choice but to forget what she is and to succumb to the affections she's forced upon you. 

But you're in the D-Block drug business now, and you may or may not be a prison mommy. 

There's no turning back. 

Not even if you want to. 


	17. Fucking Beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody!
> 
> I'm aware that this is not the best chapter I've ever written, but I still made an effort and I hope that y'all are happy with the end result. 
> 
> The next few chapters will be nothing but shameless smut-- it's what y'all deserve ;)

You wake up to the feeling of a tongue running up and down your core. 

"Fuck," you moan, your hand pressing against the head between your thighs through the thin blanket. 

"Please, please don't stop," you whisper, your hips bucking against a warm, wet mouth. 

"Shh, baby," Daddy growls, and her voice sends a jolt straight up your spine. She tightens her already firm grip on your thighs, nails raking down your skin.

You clamp a hand over your mouth, desperately trying to hold back your moans just as Daddy told you to. A small, raspy whimper still falls from your lips, and even though you can't see her, you know she must be grinning right now. 

Your hips buck against Daddy's face again, and you reach underneath the covers to entwine a hand with her hair. She grabs your ass, pulling you even closer as your grip on her hair tightens. 

"I'm close," you whisper, Daddy's tongue rolling over your clit in smooth circles. She slides two fingers inside of you, and before you know it, you're coming. 

You press your lips together tightly and try to silence your moans, Daddy never stopping what she's doing even when your legs begin to shake. Eventually, because all good things must come to an end, you push her head away and she resurfaces from underneath the blanket. 

Daddy wipes her glistening mouth with the back of her hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. 

"Good?" she asks, like she doesn't already know the answer. 

You nod, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. With that, Daddy climbs on top of you, hands gripping your hips just like they had moments before. 

"My turn," she whispers, her fingers hooking underneath her sweatshirt and pulling it off. 

Her sweatpants are next. Daddy tosses the gray cotton to the floor before leaning forward so she's completely on top of you. She kisses you, her tongue running over your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth. 

"Wait, hold up," Daddy mutters, breaking the kiss and shifting her lower half until her clit rubs against yours. 

Your breath hitches as your hands grab Daddy's hips, legs jolting slightly underneath her. 

"You're so wet," Daddy breathes, beginning to rock back and forth as her lips find your neck. 

A whine falls from your lips as Daddy moans against your skin, grinding her slit against yours as her fingers fist the sheets on either side of your body. 

"Fuck," you moan again, raking your nails against her back as you wrap your legs around her torso. 

Daddy's hips buck against your frame, her breath hot against your neck. You know she's close, and you know you are too by the pressure building up inside of you. 

"Baby," Daddy gasps out, and you can feel her clit throbbing as her pace starts to quicken. She buries her head in the empty space beside you, muffling each of her desperate growls and moans as she teeters on the verge.

"Fuck, I'm so close," the Latina murmurs in your ear, grabbing your hips and thrusting against you. Daddy lifts her head for the briefest of moments to kiss you, her tongue sliding in your mouth just like before. Your heart pounds within your chest as you feel her coming, and you swallow each of her moans right as you fall over your own edge. 

You feel that familiar rush of heat to your core as your legs begin to shake again, and you bite down hard on Daddy's neck as her hands squeeze your sides hard enough to bruise. 

Daddy pulls away from you eventually, both of you panting hard and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. She smooths your hair back with one hand and presses her mouth against yours, and your heart jolts when you feel her smiling into the kiss. 

"You're so fucking beautiful," she murmurs, staring deep into your eyes again as a wistful, almost melancholy smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. 

"You are too, don't kid yourself," you say with a scoff, pulling her down to you for one last kiss before she climbs off the bunk.

"Nah, I'm not," Daddy murmurs, pulling her sweatpants back up to her hips. She shoots you a look of...well, something that makes your heart sink down to your knees and tears form at the corners of your eyes, and…

"Sure, yeah, I'm the baddest bitch in D-Block, but I'm not beautiful. Not like you, Y/N," Daddy says with a sigh, plopping down next to you on the mattress and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

"Yeah, you are, though," you say, pulling her close and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek.

Daddy rolls her eyes before giving you another one of those loveable smirks.

"Okay, since you just fuckin' had to convince me, Y/N," she says, feigning annoyance as she shoves you back down to the mattress. You squeal in surprise as she tosses you around like a rag doll, tickling every available inch of skin until you laugh uncontrollably.

Daddy collapses next to you after a while, grabbing you from behind and resting her cheek against your shoulder. A soft, small chuckle falls from your lips as you grab her hand and entwine your fingers together. 

"Goodnight, babe," Daddy murmurs, pressing a small kiss on the back of your neck.

"Goodnight, beautiful," you whisper in response, a grin dragging itself across your face when you hear Daddy's low, disapproving growl. 

Oh, well, she was stuck with you now. 

And you wouldn't have it any other way.


	18. Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh....
> 
> Remember when I said the next few chapters would be shameless smut? 
> 
> Well.............
> 
> Uh.............................
> 
> I lied. 
> 
> Enjoy the last chapter of the decade!!!!!

"Yo, you see that shit?" 

You're pulled out of your daydreams by the unmistakable drawl of Daddy's voice.

"See what shit?" you say, rubbing a hand over your face. 

Daddy juts her chin out. "That shit. Diaz is sellin' her own product." 

You'd been in the drug business for a little over a month now, and you were slowly but surely climbing to the top of the game. Nobody fucked with you anymore-- you were la jefa according to that Hispanic girl with bangs and the purple lipstick. 

It was almost too easy-- Will dropped off the product in the visitor's bathroom, Diaz collected it, and you and Daddy and all her little friends (Diaz included) sold it. Nice little arrangement going on, didn't need no interruptions. 

"How do you know?" you ask.

"Look at the bag. Got a blue dot in the middle. Your cousin don't do that shit. That's her own product." 

And sure enough, Diaz is strolling around the yard, discreetly handing a tiny bag of powder (with a blue dot in the middle indeed) to some white girl with a mop of red curls. 

Wait a second. Is that--

"Is that Nichols?" Daddy says, forcing your train of thought to a screeching halt, and before you can grab her by the arm to stop her, she's moving. 

"Yo," Daddy snarls, the anger radiating off her enough to make your heart race. 

"Yo!" she snarls again, louder this time as she grabs the back of Nichols' hair and pulls her away from Diaz.

"Jesus Christ, Duarte, save it for the bedroom, huh?" Nichols says, hissing through her teeth and rubbing the back of her neck. 

Daddy's already found a new target, however. She jabs two fingers in the chest of the Diaz girl, her voice low and raspy and laced with rage. 

"What the fuck are you doin', Diaz? You think it's okay to fuck up somebody's life like that?" Daddy growls, the venom rolling off her tongue enough to make your lower belly burn with fear. Rage is rage, and venom laced words are venom laced words, and it doesn't matter if they're directed at you or not. They still send a jolt up your spine.

"You think you don't fuck up people's lives, getting them addicted and shit? Get the fuck outta my way," Diaz scoffs, waving Daddy to the side dismissively.

"I don't sell to someone who's been sober for over a fucking year, I still got morals," Daddy whispers, her nails forming crescent-moon shaped marks on Diaz's bruised flesh. Diaz winces, flinching away from Daddy's grip.

"Hey, Daddy, calm down," you murmur, eyes frantically darting around. If a guard saw this shit, all of you bitches would be thrown into Ad-Seg, and you'd get time added on to all your sentences, too.

Daddy shrugs the calming presence of your hand off her shoulder as she gets even closer to Diaz.

"That's fuckin' disrespect right there. You're fuckin' disrespecting me, Diaz, by selling your own shit in front of me and my girl," the older Latina says, grabbing the younger girl by the back of her hair and yanking hard, Daddy's mouth dangerously close to the column of her neck. 

"And I told you already, don't fucking sell to Nichols. She's off limits. I don't care, I said I don't fucking care," Daddy growls through gritted teeth when Diaz opens her mouth in an effort to speak. 

"Now fuck off, Diaz, I'll deal with you later. And give me that bag, Nichols, before I smack you into next Tuesday," Daddy demands of the ginger, pushing Diaz to the side as if the younger girl is a speck of nothing. 

A soft, sort of choked-off sound falls from Diaz's lips before she quickly walks away, leaving a trail of heartbreak and regret in her path. 

Daddy turns back to Nichols with angry eyes and an outstretched palm, and before she even has to say anything, the redhead practically slams the little white baggie into the Latina's hand. 

"Yes ma'am, indeed, absolutely, unequivocally, you're the boss here," Nichols stammers out, backing away from the two of you so quickly that she nearly walks straight into Hellman. 

Daddy turns back to you, her big brown eyes still full of rage and her hands still trembling by her sides.

Needless to say, you are terrified of her in this moment. 

"Let's go," she snarls, and you know a whole lot better than to question her right now. 

×  
×  
×

"I can't tolerate that shit. I can't do it." 

You quirk an eyebrow as Daddy paces around the cell. "Can't do what?"

"I can't put up with being disrespected like that, and I can't put up with you being disrespected like that, neither. Bitch is lucky I didn't bash her head against the wall." 

"You're getting way too worked up over this. What's wrong? Commissary out of plain Lay's chips or something? I know those are your favorite, but--" 

"She fucking disrespected you, babe. That's what I'm so fuckin' pissed about, she had no right to just-- just flaunt that shit around, sellin' her own shit right in front of us, and--" 

Daddy cuts herself off by slamming her hand against the wall so hard that you swear you can hear something crack. Panic spreads hot and wild throughout your chest as you clamp your hands over your ears, your breath coming in short, shallow spurts. 

It's almost funny, you think, how after so many years, yelling still forces you into becoming that eleven year old girl again. 

Almost. 

"Baby? Baby, I'm sorry," Daddy says, but her voice is garbled and barely audible as if she's underwater. She plops down next to you on the mattress, warm hands placed on either side of your body. 

You force yourself to meet her gaze, your eyes wide and full of fear despite yourself.

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to scare you," Daddy murmurs, pressing her lips against your forehead. "I'm so sorry."

You let out a deep, shuddering exhale before nodding your head, lower lip tucked between your teeth. 

"I know you didn't," you murmur in response, slowly getting up from the bunk and pressing your back against the wall. 

"But you have to apologize to Diaz. That shit was not cool, Daddy, and you know that. She's just a kid." 

Daddy scoffs, running her tongue over her bottom lip. "I don't have to apologize for shit. She wanna try me again? Oh, she can bring it," the Latina snarls, pounding her fist against her open palm between each word. 

You ignore her.

"Come on. What's our objective here? To get her selling for us, yeah? You think threatening her is gonna help, Daddy?" you ask, knitting your brow together and squatting down to reach Daddy's eye level.

Daddy scoffs again at your feeble attempt to reason with her. 

"Well, yeah. She needs to get back in line," Daddy replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Her callousness sends a chill of fear down your spine and a jolt of heat to your chest, and once again you are reminded of what a monster Daddy can be. 

But you won't think about that now. You can't think about that now.

"You ever heard of the phrase you catch more flies with honey?" you say.

"You ever heads of the phrase if a bitch disrespects you and your girl, bash her fucking head in?" 

"Yeah, my third grade teacher had it up on her wall. But, come on. Try and talk to her. Get her some cookies or some tampons from commissary or something, buy her loyalty back. The possibilities are endless," you say, placing a warm hand on Daddy's khaki-clad knee. 

You stick your bottom lip out when Daddy stays silent. "Please? For me?" 

Daddy finally relents with a roll of her eyes and a heavy sigh, pushing your hand off her knee. Sure, she's all surly and exasperated now, but she'll be thanking you later, won't she?

"Alright, I'll do it. But if that doesn't work, I have another idea, and it's not something you're gonna like," Daddy says, her voice low and measured and careful. 

You quirk an eyebrow. "What?" you say, your heart already beginning to quicken with every moment that passes. 

"Well, she likes you. A whole lot, from what I've heard, so… you might wanna use that to your advantage, Y/N." 

You furrow your brow. "Like, kiss her? Yeah, I can do that, I don't care." It's a lie, of course, but you've become exceptionally good at that as of late.

Daddy slowly shakes her head. 

"No, I mean, like, fuck her." 

Your eyes widen. 

"You want me to FUCK HER?"

"Well, no, but if she doesn't listen to you…" 

Daddy clicks her tongue and looks you up and down. "Then what other choice do you have?" 

You slowly shake your head, eyes wide and lips parted and glossy with spit.

"I mean, don't you care that your girlfriend might fuck somebody else? Doesn't that bother you?" you say, your voice eerily similar to that of your mother's when she was begging your father to please stop.

It's unfathomable to you, really, how Daddy can just detach herself like this, all in the name of business.

And it's unbelievable that she expects the same of you. 

"It's just business, it's not like you really want her," Daddy says incredulously. Her eyes are wide with something not unlike shock, shock that you're not willing to fuck some girl you barely know for the sake of getting her to sell for you again. 

"No. No, no, no, no," you say, your mouth numb from your words. 

"I'm not doing that. Not to her, not to you, not to myself." You shake your head again. 

"No." 

Daddy probes the side of her cheek with her tongue before shaking her head in defeat, pulling you onto her lap by the waist. 

"I'm sorry, baby girl. I shouldn't have asked," she mutters, interlacing her fingers with yours and kissing the back of your hand. 

You sigh, resting your chin on top of her head. 

"It's okay. I'll go talk to her, see if I can't convince her to sell for us again," you say in reply, pressing a kiss to Daddy's forehead before climbing off of her. 

"Okay, but before you go…"

You turn around.

"Can I get a smile?" Daddy says, tilting her head to the side and looking up at you with those big brown eyes. 

You let out another defeated sigh. God, she knows just how to get what she wants….

You give Daddy one of those fake, forced grins before leaving. 

"Aw, come on, a real one," Daddy calls after you, but you're already long gone. 

"Knock-knock," you say, stepping past the doorway and into Diaz's cell. The younger girl slams her magazine down, revealing big brown eyes almost swollen shut from crying and blotchy, red cheeks. 

You knit your brow. "You okay?"

Daya (or is it Diaz?) quickly nods, almost as if you hadn't just walked in on the aftermath of her sob fest. 

You grimace and tilt your head to the side. Needless to say, her performance is not very convincing. 

"No, you're not," you murmur, sitting next to Diaz on the bunk. You take the magazine out of her hands and toss it to the side. 

"I know you're not okay. And I know why. It's because of Daddy," you say matter of factly. 

Diaz sniffles, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "That bitch can kiss my left ass cheek," she mutters bitterly before looking up at you with red rimmed eyes. 

"No offense, yo," she says quietly. 

You shrug. "Oddly specific, but no offense taken," you reply, tentatively placing a warm hand on the Latina's shoulder. 

Diaz flinches away, her breath hitching at your touch. 

"Oh, shit, sorry," you stammer out, clutching your hand as if you've just been burned. 

Diaz shakes her head. "Nah, that's okay, Y/L/N. Just ain't been touched in a while, is all," she says with a shake of her head. 

, uh…" 

Eventually, you find the courage to speak again. 

"I'm sorry, Diaz. Daddy might be too proud to apologize, but I'm not, and I'm sorry she did that to you," you say, your voice so soft and gentle that it nearly surprises you. 

You're not talking to a child here, after all, you're talking to a grown-ass woman. A murderer, for fuck's sake, not a toddler post-tantrum. You shouldn't be so nice to her. 

Right?

Diaz shakes her head and lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, her features suddenly darkening as her eyes meet with yours. 

"Cut the bullshit, man, I know what you really here for. You want me to start selling for you and that bitch again." She juts out her chin in the direction of your cell. You feel a flare of anger in your chest for the briefest of moments, but you close your eyes and will it away.

"Diaz, I'm not gonna lie to you, I do, but that's not the only reason I came here," you say, placing a hand over Diaz's. Her eyes light up with a sort of surprised elation for a moment, and you swear you can feel something tug at your gut. 

"I'm really sorry, Diaz. And if there's something I can do to make up for it--" 

"Three bags of Doritos. Ranch, not that spicy nacho shit. And Twizzlers. Oh, and brown Pantene, too," the Latina says, quirking an eyebrow at the end of her demands.

"Got all that?" 

You blink, lips parted in shock. The little girl with huge brown eyes and a sad, wistful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth is gone now, replaced by a murderer lacking a conscience, lacking any semblance of good shining in her chest. 

It scares you. 

"And whatever I want from commissary in the future. I know y'all be makin' money, why not spend it on your best salesman? Salesgirl, whatever," Diaz says with an expectant shrug and a dismissive wave of her hand.

You slowly nod, the air in the cell suddenly seeming thicker, more cloying, eerily similar to Barb's. 

Fuck. Can't get outta there fast enough. 

"Yeah, I'll do that. Get you anything you want, you got it," you say, leaping up from the mattress and nearly scampering towards the door. 

"Also--" 

You turn around, gagging at the feel of your foot in your mouth. 

"If you ever sell to Nichols again, you'll be buying your own fuckin' snacks. Don't let me or Daddy catch you doing that again. She's not as nice as I am, and you best believe she'll have Chatty Cathy shiv you in your sleep." 

With that, you spin around on your heel and leave.

The words taste bitter and unfamiliar on your tongue, like they're not supposed to be there. Well, you know for a fact they're not, this whole 'scary prison mommy' facade is just that, a facade, and--

"Well?" 

Daddy pulls you into the cell by the wrist, an expectant look etched across her features. Her hands are firmly planted on her hips, her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed. 

By contrast, you're beaming now, a bright smile that makes your cheeks ache with effort. "I did it! I got her back to sellin' for us, no fingerbanging necessary."

Daddy's eyes widen. "What'd you have to do for it?"

"I promised her anything she wanted from commissary. And, as an added bonus, I told her that if she ever sold to Nichols again, you'd have Chatty Cathy shiv her in her sleep," you explain, propping an elbow against the side of the top bunk. 

"Not so bad for a rookie, huh?" you say, playfully sticking your tongue out. 

Daddy slowly shakes her head, a smirk already beginning to form on her lips.

"Not bad at all," she murmurs, pulling you close by the waist and cupping your face in her hands. 

"You've been such a good girl," she whispers, her lips briefly ghosting over yours before traveling down to your neck. Your breath hitches. 

"You know what happens to good girls?" Daddy murmurs, dragging her tongue over your pulse point. Her hands slide under your shirt, pulling at your flesh. 

"They get a $50 Macy's gift card?" you say through your breathless pants. 

"They get a reward." 

Daddy pushes you down to the bed, thighs pressed against yours and hands roaming your body. A small moan escapes your lips as she grabs your chin, her tongue sliding into your mouth as her free hand slides down your belly and past the waistband of your pants. 

"Baby, oh, fuck," you murmur as her thumb circles your clit, her lips traveling down your neck once again. 

"You're so ready for me," she growls, a devilish smirk playing across her lips before she slowly withdraws her hand.

"The fuck?" you say incredulously, propping yourself up on your elbows and furrowing your brow. 

Daddy clicks her tongue disappointedly, her lips coming dangerously close to yours. 

"Remember what I told you, baby? About patience?" she says, sliding her hands underneath your shirt and tugging it off. 

"I just want to have a little more fun with you." 

You whine despite yourself, hips thrusting up against hers in need of friction. Daddy's eyes darken as she pushes you back down, hands sliding up your back to unclasp your bra. She doesn't need to say a word at all, the message is clear-- she's in control now, not you. 

Daddy plants hot, wet kisses all over your chest before taking your nipple in her mouth and sucking hard, her other hand kneading your breast hard enough to bruise. Your hips bounce off the bed again when the Latina kisses down your stomach, panting with every breath until she tugs off your pants. 

The Latina pulls the white cotton of your underwear down your legs and tosses it to the side, hands locked around your thighs. You're shaking with anticipation now, knowing that she's going to fuck you senseless, but not knowing when, and fuck, how much longer is she going to tease you like this--

Daddy flicks your clit with her tongue, and--- 

Fuck. 

Fuck, what have you become? 

You already know the answer, of course. A monster. You just threatened to have a little girl murdered over almost nothing, after all. Even though she's a full grown woman, and a murderer herself, she's still wide-eyed and naive and precocious in the way you used to be, and you can't even fathom why you would even say that to her in the first place. Can't understand why such venomous words would stain your tongue. 

And how can Daddy do this, after all? How can she walk around so nonchalant and blasé all the fuckin' time? 

You don't understand her at all.

Besides, you still don't know what she even did, really, accessory to murder was all she told you. She could have covered it up, she could have turned a blind eye to whatever was going on, fuck, she could have even helped-- 

You stare up at the top bunk, eyes empty and stomach heavy with guilt. 

How'd you even get yourself into this mess?


	19. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I haven't updated since last decade! 
> 
> Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha 
> 
> Okay I'll let myself out

She comes up behind you in the library, pressing you against the wall and mouthing at your neck. 

"Oh,  _ fuck _ ," you whisper under your breath, Daddy pushing you towards your 'office', hidden away by a cocoon of law books, decorated with succulents and album posters plastered up on the wall. 

Legend has it that it was C-Block's spot back in the day. 

Well, needless to say-- things certainly have changed. 

Daddy pins you down against the makeshift bed, an array of blankets piled on top of one another. She wastes no time in tearing off your pants, tossing the khaki fabric away and grabbing you firmly by the hips. 

"Are you sure?" you whisper, but your breath is coming out in pants and gasps now, and Daddy has already tugged your underwear down your legs. 

"Shut up," she growls, grabbing your hips again and bringing you up to her mouth. 

Your breath hitches when Daddy's tongue flicks over your clit, and your hands shoot straight to the back of her head. Your hands tangle with her hair, throwing your head back in ecstasy as your eyes flutter shut. 

"Please," you beg, your voice breathier and more high pitched than you'd like it to be. Daddy looks up at you from between your legs, her eyes dark and foreboding.

"Didn't I tell you to shut the fuck up, baby?" she whispers, her grip on your thighs tightening with every word that rolls off her tongue. 

You fervently nod, clamping a hand over your mouth when Daddy starts softly sucking on your clit, nails leaving angry red marks on your flesh. Fuck, how does she expect you to be quiet right now, when she's--

A gasp tears its way past your lips when Daddy slides two fingers inside of you, curling her digits and rubbing against your front wall. Her mouth leaves your clit to bite down hard on your inner thigh, a silent warning to be quiet. 

"Sorry," you mumble, your voice wavering as her teeth pierce your delicate flesh and her fingers probe your wet heat. 

Daddy gives you one last reproachful glare before her tongue flicks the underside of your clit, your hips bucking without abandon. Before you can warn her, you're coming in her mouth, legs shaking and hands white-knuckled from gripping the back of her head. 

You push her away after a while, tugging your pants back up to your hips and trying to stand up on your vehemently shaking legs.

"Woah, woah, woah, where do you think you're goin', pretty lady?" 

Daddy grabs you by the hips and firmly pulls you back down, a mischievous chuckle passing through her lips as her arms circle your waist. 

You can't help but flinch a little at her touch despite how familiar it is.

"You good?" Daddy drawls, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. 

A lump lodges itself in your throat. You know you can't just lie to her, regardless of how much you want to, but you can't really tell her the truth either, and… 

"You kinda checked out on me last time, Y/N. You sure you good?" Daddy says, her brow furrowing as her eyes widen with intent. 

"I… guess I just didn't really, y'know, uh, I, I mean, I just feel bad about...things, so I just kinda zoned out," you stammer, staring at your hands as if they're the most interesting thing you've ever seen. 

Daddy entwines her fingers with yours, pressing a warm, wet kiss to your cheek. 

"Come on, baby, it's okay. You can tell me," she drawls, thumbing soft, soothing circles on your hand. 

The contact makes your skin burn, and you wrench your hand away, unable to stand it. 

You don't deserve it. Any of it. 

Besides, given what you're about to tell her, you doubt she'll be so loving in t-minus thirty seconds. 

"I don't know if I wanna do this anymore," you say, the words singing your tongue as they fall from your lips. 

You swear you can hear Daddy's heart stop beating. 

Your eyes widen to the size of plates, a scrambling to find the right words, to explain yourself. There's no way you're breaking up with her by choice, but--

"No, no, I love you, I'm not breaking up with you!" you frantically say, your heart racing an erratic rhythm in your chest.

"But I don't know if I wanna sell any more," you murmur, Daddy's eyes burning a hole in your chest until you can't bear to look at her anymore. 

Daddy exhales, a deep shuddering sigh that makes your bones ache. She runs a hand through her hair, and shit, you can practically feel the stress radiating off her. 

"I--I'm sorry. Really, I am," you explain, but your words mean absolutely nothing to her, you know that much. 

"Listen, I, I'll stick it out for a little longer and then I'll make a decision, okay?" you say, placing a hand on Daddy's arm. You can only hope that it provides some semblance of comfort and warmth. 

Daddy looks up at you again, moisture forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Okay," she says, getting up from the floor and walking away from you. 

And don't get you wrong-- you'd like to lie to yourself, say that everything is okay, that nothing has to change. 

But you know that everything will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, give kudos, scream 'OPTIMISTICLESBIAN IS THE BEST WRITER EVER', y'know, the works :)


	20. Afraid

"Oh, fuck!" 

Daddy's wrist is buried in your pants, her fingers curling inside of you and her thumb circling your swollen clit. You're riding her hand, straddling her lap as your own fingers are clamped down on her shoulders. 

"I'm so close," you gasp into the curve of Daddy's shoulder, your inner walls fluttering around her probing fingers. Daddy's free hand pulls at the back of your hair, exposing your own neck and biting the flesh  _ hard.  _

That's enough to make you come all over Daddy's hand. You clamp a hand over your mouth, moaning against your palm as your legs start to shake. 

Daddy bats your hand away, giving your hair another sharp pull. "No, baby, let me hear," she growls, running her tongue over the skin where she bit you. She's marked you, and the thought alone is almost enough to make you come again. 

Eventually, you fall back onto the mattress, chest heaving up and down with every breath. You're pulled out of your daze by Daddy's raspy laugh. 

"You look like you enjoyed yourself," she says, running her tongue over her fingers. You chuckle yourself, grabbing her by the face and kissing her. 

"Yeah, I did. Is your wrist okay, or did I speed up the arthritis process by a couple o' years?" you ask. 

"My wrist is fine, baby," Daddy says, her voice tinged with an incredulous laugh. She pulls you to her again, lips pressed against yours and arms circling your waist. 

At that exact moment, Nichols walks in, her timing ever perfect. 

"Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt, but Barb wants to speak with you, Daddy-O. Glad to hear about your wrist, by the way," the redhead says, leaning against the doorway and crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

Your face flushes hot with embarrassment as Daddy gently pushes you away and stands up from the bed. 

"What'd she say?" Daddy asks. 

Nichols shrugs, her upper lip curled into a grimace. "Beats me. What I can tell you though, however, is that you need to get your tight ass in there ASAP, Daddy-O." 

You stand up as well, heart already beginning to pound. "She ask for me too?" 

Nichols clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "Just your lesbo lover here. Unfortunately, Y/N, you're stuck with me." 

Daddy shoots the redhead a reproachful glare before hurrying out of the cell. 

"Great weather we're having today, huh, Y/N?" Nichols drawls, leaning against the wall like there's absolutely nothing going on. Must be routine for her at this point, one of Barb's little minions. 

"Yeah, I guess," you mumble, craning your neck in order to see outside the cell. It's pointless, you can't see Barb's cell from yours, but you can't just act like nothing's wrong when your girlfriend could be getting her appendix carved out right now. 

The thought makes your stomach turn.  _ Jesus… _

"Hey, don't worry about it. She's mommy's favorite, Barb won't touch her," Nichols says, walking over and plopping down next to you completely uninvited. 

"She better not." You clench your jaw. "Or I'll fuckin' kill her dead." 

The ginger scoffs. "Good luck with that." 

The two of you sit in agonizing silence for a few more minutes until Nichols decides to open up her mouth. 

"Hey, uh, did I ever tell you I used to be here?" 

You quirk an eyebrow. "No. I thought you came straight from camp to here after the riot." 

"Well, uh, yeah, but I spent a couple months here and came back to camp a little before the riot. And now? I'm back. Funny how things work out sometimes, eh?" 

"Did you know Daddy back then?" you ask, tilting your head to the side in curiosity. 

"Oh, boy, did I," Nichols says with a scoff. 

You frown. "What?" 

"Blame it on my addictive tendencies," the ginger explains, wildly gesticulating with her hands. You know all about her past as an addict, but… 

"Care to elaborate?" you say, a sharp bite in your voice. 

"I relapsed during my luxurious vacation here, and your lady love was the one that gave me drugs. Apart from the lovely and vivacious C.O Enders, of course. And you should know, Daddy don't give away nothin' for free," Nichols continues, nudging you in the side with her elbow. 

"So, you…." you begin. 

_ Oh, fuck. Please don't tell me that--  _

"Yep. You betcha. Until I called her a pillow princess, which got me nothin' but a divine pimp slap and withdrawal," Nichols replied, hissing through her teeth and gesturing to the side of her face. 

You cough out a laugh. "Very well deserved." 

"And there's no need to be jealous, by the way. She's in love with you, Y/N. Even Helen Keller could see that shit," Nichols deadpans in that horribly sardonic way of hers that you can't help but find endearing. 

"What about you?" She wants to make you uncomfortable? Oh, two can play that game. 

"What about me what?" Nichols says. She's good at playing stupid, you gotta give her that. 

"You got anyone?" 

"Well, uh...used to. Maybe, kinda, sorta, not really. Just wasn't meant to be, y'know?" 

"Who is she?" you inquire, genuinely curious now instead of malicious. 

"You know, pregnant girl? With the lustrous brown hair and the gorgeous curves and the ethereal brown eyes and the tight ass and the indescribably sexy accent?" 

"Yeah, sounds familiar," you deadpan, mentally taking note of how much of a dyke Nichols really is. 

"That's the one. Or, well, coulda been." 

"Sounds like you must have really loved her," you murmur. What else are you supposed to say, after all? 

"Still do, kinda. Hey, don't tell the girl I fingered in the showers just now, huh? Could get myself in a shit ton of trouble," Nichols replies under her breath, shooting you a suggestive wink. 

You laugh again, something genuine. 

"Promise I won't." 

"Just… count your lucky stars, okay, Y/L/N? You're real lucky to have someone like Daddy, so don't you ever forget it." There's tears blooming at the edges of her eyes now, but you pretend not to notice them. Always on cue, Nichols gets up and walks to the doorway. 

"I won't. And Nichols?" 

"Huh?" the ginger mumbles. 

"Go and get your girl." 

There's a pause. 

"A little late for that." 

Well, shit. Clearly, Nichols isn't as lucky in love as you are. 

Daddy walks in shortly afterwards, hands shaking and skin pale. You immediately shoot up from your place on the mattress, fear brewing deep in your stomach. 

"Relax, baby, it's nothin'. I told Barb you didn't wanna sell no more, and she said that was a-okay, as long as your connect keeps comin' in," the Latina explains, sitting down next to you and taking you in her arms. 

You arch an eyebrow, the knot in your chest refusing to unravel just yet. 

"What's the catch?" you say. 

"We have to find someone else to make up for you. I'll keep sellin', and so will Diaz, but we need to get someone else. I don't trust Nichols as far as I can throw her, and if we fuck with Preggo, Nichols'll skin us alive." 

"Let's ask one of your girls. Annalisa, or Swope, or whatever." 

"You think I'm gonna trust addicts with product? Fuck no, we gotta find someone else," Daddy says incredulously, carding her shaking hands through her hair. 

"Well...what about Adeola?" you say, placing what you can only hope is a warm, reassuring hand on the Latina's shoulder. 

"Maybe, yeah. Sit tight, I'll ask her," Daddy mutters, getting up from the bed before being yanked by down. 

"No, no, don't," you say, forcing the words past the growing lump in your throat. Daddy frowns, already fixated on you instead of her mission to find Adeola. 

"I...I never told you why I wanted to stop selling," you say, hands shaking by your sides. No, you don't have to tell her this, but you've put her through so much, so you owe it to her, in a way. 

Daddy furrows her brow. 

"I just…." 

You swallow the bile accumulating in your mouth. 

"I'm scared," you say, trying so hard not to choke on your words when you push them past your lips. 

  
"I'm scared of becoming like  _ him _ ."


	21. It's Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting so long for this chapter! It's greatly appreciated :)

" _ Hnnh _ … you're  _ gayyy _ …" 

Daddy is asleep (or not so asleep) next to you, an arm thrown haphazardly around your waist. You stifle a laugh, clamping your hand over your mouth. Oh, this was prime blackmail material. 

"I...I am  _ lesbian _ , I... _ loveee _ you, gay…" 

Daddy's hand comes dangerously close to meeting your face as she tosses and turns. You mutter a quiet 'oh shit' and jerk away before anything happens. 

"I'm lesbian, gayy _ yyy _ ." 

_ Okay, so, clearly she has no idea what's going on.  _

"I wanna….kiss your face….baby…" 

You can't help but blush and let out a small chuckle. Shit, you couldn't wait to tell Daddy all about this when she woke up, she would be  _ mortified-- _

_ "Homosexuality."  _

You can't help it-- you burst out hysterically laughing before you can stop yourself. The hand you clamp over your mouth does nothing for you, and the vehement shaking of your shoulders doesn't do much to help, either. 

"Wha?" Daddy murmurs, rubbing a hand over her face before looking up at you with sleep-muddled eyes. 

"You talk in your sleep, and it's the funniest thing I've ever heard," you say through your hysterical laughs. And it's true-- nothing like your prison wife whispering 'homosexual' in the middle of the night. 

"You couldn't wait to tell me that shit in the morning? Damn," Daddy groans in response. 

A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Sorry," you say, but you're really not sorry at all. Man, wouldn't this make a hilarious sapphic Tumblr post? If only you had a contraband cellphone...

"It's fine. But, like, what do I say?" Daddy asks, now fully awake as she props herself up on the mattress. 

"Well, just now, you whispered 'homosexuality' and before that, you were all 'oh, baby, I wanna kiss your face, you're gay, I'm lesbian' and a  _ who-o-o-o-le  _ bunch of shit," you explain, a laugh already beginning to bubble up in your throat at the recollection. 

"Yeah, sounds like me. Surprised I didn't say anything overtly sexual. Do I snore, though?" 

"No. How 'bout me?" you ask. 

"No, actually. You don't talk in your sleep, either," Daddy says, brow furrowed in thought. 

"Oh, good. Because if I  _ did  _ snore, I'd give you a free pass to break up with me and go shack up with Nichols," you say in response, playfully elbowing Daddy in the side. 

"Well, I wouldn't take it." 

Your upper lip curls into a grin. "You'd better not." 

The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, Daddy's fingers carding through your hair as she slings a leg over your hip. 

You feel a surge of warmth in your chest, wrapping your arms a little tighter around your girlfriend and holding her close. Daddy shoots you a smile, pulling you even closer and pressing her lips to your forehead. 

"I love you," she murmurs, her free hand interlacing with yours. 

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You feel awful about the events of the past few days, telling Daddy you can't sell no more, working your respective asses off to find someone else…

"Baby?" Daddy says, furrowing her brow with concern. "What's wrong?" 

"I just feel really bad," you blurt out before you can think of something rational to say, the words stinging the walls of your throat. 

"I feel bad about not selling anymore, I just feel so damn selfish, and I'm so so so sorry, Daddy," you say, teetering on the edge of hysteria with every word that you force past your lips. 

Daddy furiously shakes her head, eyes wide and brow furrowed with concern. "No, no, no baby, no," she whispers, her thumb stroking up and down your hand. 

"It's fine, it's okay. Ain't nothing to worry about," she says, the words slowly but surely lulling you into a dreamless sleep. 

"It's okay." 

You wish you could believe her. But you know, you just  _ know  _ that there's a monster brewing inside you, simmering just underneath. Stopping dealing was just a temporary stop gap. It couldn't change the fact that you were all fire and rage, ready to destroy anything that stood in your path. 

You were just like  _ him.  _


	22. Smile

"Hi." 

The singular word is simple and nonchalant, but it's enough to send a chill of electricity up your spine. You look up from your magazine, only to see Daddy holding a bottle of hooch as she leans against the doorway to your shared cell. 

You quirk an eyebrow. "Adeola special?"

"Yeah. Want some?" Daddy says, strolling into the cell and climbing up to the mattress. 

"Yes,  _ pleaaaaase _ ," you drawl, reaching out for the shampoo bottle and taking a healthy swallow. 

Getting buzzed is fun, you have to admit. You like that tipsy, giggly feeling, the warmth that starts in your belly and spreads throughout your whole body. 

You don't like being  _ drunk,  _ though.  _ He  _ was always drunk, always sloppy and slurry and black-out wasted. 

And you'd rather die than be like that man, so after about three swigs, you hand the bottle back to Daddy. 

She snickers. "Lightweight." 

"Blame it on the childhood trauma," you quip, giving your girlfriend a wink and clicking your tongue. 

Daddy presses her lips together and averts her eyes, looking like she's trying desperately hard not to laugh. You elbow her in the side, and that's when she lets out a soft chuckle. 

"Ain't no therapy in prison, so I make do with dark humor," you mutter, a sort of odd smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. 

"There's always Psych, but you ain't nuts enough to go there," Daddy says in response, taking another drink from the bottle before tucking it underneath the mattress. 

"Nah, I'm not," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "What time's it, anyway?" 

"Late as fuck. That's what time it is." 

You chuckle. "Yeah. I think I'm gonna head to bed soon, anyway. Goodnight," you say, leaning in to press your lips against Daddy's. 

"Goodnight," she says in reply as you climb back down to your bunk, and you fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow. 

× × × 

_ "Y/N…"  _

_ She's clutching at her stomach, crimson staining khaki and leaking out the corners of her mouth. Her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes are empty and cold and rapidly losing the light that you so dearly love.  _

_ You're screaming at the top of your lungs, begging for help, begging begging begging--  _

_ "Please-- baby," she groans out, blindly searching for you. Tears are streaming down your cheeks, and you can taste blood in the back of your throat, and you can't see anything but her, the love of your life, dying dying dying dead--  _

×××

"Baby, what's wrong? What happened?" 

You can't stop shaking. 

That's the first thing you notice. The aching in your bones forces everything else out of your world, pain the only thing you can feel. 

The next thing you notice is your tears. Your chest and throat feel aching and raw, your eyes swollen shut from crying so hard. 

The third thing (person) you notice is Daddy, looking up at you with those big brown eyes and pleading with you to tell her what's wrong. 

"Nightmare," you gasp, not giving Daddy time to say another word before launching yourself into her arms. 

"Woah, woah, woah, what happened? What about?" Daddy says hurriedly, pulling you close as she rubs soothing circles on your back. 

"You-- you died. You died, and there was nothing I could do at all to help you, I, I, I just had to sit there," you sob, your shoulders heaving up and down so hard that it hurts. 

"Hey, hey, yo, it's okay. It's okay, I'm fine. See? I'm fine." Daddy raises up a hand, turning it around so you can see her palm. A smile lifts up the corners of her mouth, but it disappears when your sobbing increases tenfold. 

"Shit, baby, I'm sorry. That wasn't funny," she mutters, resting her cheek against your head when she holds you close again. 

You let out a humorless chuckle. "It's okay," you mutter. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of your respective impending mortalities to keep you company. And that's nice, of course, it's a perfectly fun couples bonding activity. 

But not as fun as something else you have in mind. 

You grab Daddy's hand and place it down the front of your pants, your breath hitching when her fingers move past your underwear. Her eyes widen with realization, and in no time, she's sliding her tongue into your mouth and brushing her bottom lip against yours. 

Two of her fingers slip inside of you and her thumb circles your clit, making your hips buck when she climbs on top of you. Daddy grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks  _ hard,  _ tongue warm against your skin as she licks a long stripe up your neck. 

"Daddy," you gasp, your inner walls already starting to flutter around her fingers. You're so close, so, so close, and she's barely even touched you-- 

"You like that, baby, don't you?" she growls in your ear, thumb pressing a little harder against your clit. All you can do is whine in response, hands sliding down her back to cup her ass. 

"Uh-uh, later," Daddy whispers, curling her fingers inside of you and running her tongue over your skin again. 

"Oh, oh fuck," you gasp, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as your peak washes over you. You try to clamp a hand over your mouth, but Daddy grabs you by the back of your hair again and presses her lips against yours to silence you. 

"Was that good?" Daddy asks, licking your cum off her fingers with slow, ardent strokes. A smirk tugs at her upper lip when your eyes widen. 

"Very," you say breathlessly, grabbing her by the shirt and forcing your lips against her own. 

"Don't get me started again, baby girl," Daddy growls against the shell of your ear before gently pushing you away, letting out a chuckle when you whimper in protest. 

"Goodnight," the Latina murmurs, leaving you with one last kiss before climbing back down to her bunk. 

You let out a long, slow sigh, your head collapsing against the pillow once again. The last few days had been absolute shit, of course, what with your seemingly endless existential crisis, and Barb breathing down Daddy's neck, and-- 

Well, that didn't matter anymore. 

All things considered, you felt pretty okay. Maybe it was the euphoric high you were still coming down from, but regardless, you fell asleep that night with a smile playing across your lips and the love of your life sleeping right above you. 

And that was a lot more than you could ask for.


	23. A/N

Hi, everyone-- 

I have some unfortunate news. 

I've lost my motivation for this story, so I'm putting it on hiatus for now. It's not over forever, just for a while as I figure out a couple things and work past this writer's block. 

Thank you for sticking with me so far! I'll be back soon :)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I should make this longer :) Thank you so much for reading!


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